


The Cutting Edge

by callmeonetrack



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Cutting Edge (1992)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, ice!pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 73,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeonetrack/pseuds/callmeonetrack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's fire. He's ice. They just might be the perfect match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover fic, transplanting many of the characters of BSG to the setting/premise of the 1992 figure skating romantic comedy, The Cutting Edge. In that film, Doug Dorsey is a hotshot charmer of a hockey player who gets injured in his career-making Olympic game and gets recruited to pair with hot-tempered spoiled ice princess Kate Mosley for pairs figure skating. In this fic, the roles are gender reversed with Kara as the hotshot and Lee as the spoiled and aloof ice prince. The original movie bends the rules of skating and the timeline of Olympic qualifications to its will as needed; I have done the same.

On the first day of the rest of her life, Kara Thrace woke up smiling.

This was an unfamiliar and surprising occurrence, as she had never been one of those dreaded "morning people." But then again, today was no ordinary day. Today was the day she would embrace her destiny.

Today, she would skate the best goddamned game that Olympic women's ice hockey had ever seen.

Kara could already hear the roar of the crowd in her head. Her eyes opened, vision sharpening as her consciousness swam to the surface and focused on the bright red digits on the strangely silent alarm cl—

"It's one o'clock." She gasped and bolted upright in the hotel bed, rapidly blinking eyes already skipping frantically to her watch for confirmation. "It's one o'clock in the afternoon!"

Kara jumped out of bed, barely skimming a glance over the guy she'd picked up in the hotel bar the previous night. Dark hair, good hands, well-muscled. Some second-stringer, she thought as she darted around scooping up clothing from the floor. She couldn't remember from where. Hell, it's not like she'd been in it for the conversation.

"What the hell happened to the alarm?" She snarled, panic setting in. "I got a game!" Warm ups had begun approximately 30 minutes prior for the final matchup between Team USA and Team West Germany. Her entire future was riding on this.

The guy groaned and levered up onto his elbows, squinting at her as she rushed around the room. Kara flicked another glance his way. He was clearly unruffled by her predicament and a hot wave of irritation coursed through her.

"I'm supposed to be on the ice…" she groped for a name, her still-addled brain tossing out something that didn't sound quite right, "Stan."

"Stan?"

She hopped on one leg, pulling her jeans up frantically then scooping up her sports bra, badge and jersey. Jersey. Kara had a quick flash of a dark material and bright letters in her mind's eye. Anderson? Was he Swedish? She hadn't heard an accent…

"This is great. Just great. Late for the Olympics." She blew out a breath and raked a hand through her spiky hair. "I'm just about four hours late here, Sven."

"Sven?" the guy snorted, both eyebrows rising into his hairline. "You're kind of a bitch in the morning, eh?"

_Okay. Canadian, not Swedish then._

 Kara yanked the rest of her clothes on and grabbed her duffel bag and her boots, sweeping them up and reaching for the doorknob, still barefoot. Fuck it. She could dress as she ran. If she got there before the team took the ice in…she flicked a glance down at her wrist--crap, twenty minutes!--Kara knew Coach would forgive her. Hell, she was their star player. They needed her to win.

She was just about to bolt out of the room when she realized the guy was still looking at her with a piqued expression. Kara stifled a sigh. It wasn't his fault really; he was just an easy ride for the night. She shouldn't have done that fifth round of shots. She racked her brain for a final peace offering. "Sean?"

The guy frowned and slumped back on the bed, dragging a pillow over his face. From beneath its fluffy down depths came a muffled and definitely exasperated, " _Sam_. My name is Sam."

Kara shrugged a shoulder and ran out the door, already forgetting everything except the way to the arena.

Thirty minutes later, she planted her skate on the ice, cheers of the crowd roaring in her ears and Kara took a deep breath. The familiar scents of leather and sweat, the lingering fumes from the Zamboni and sharp tang of chlorination rushed in, filling her nose and lungs, and Kara smiled. She was home.

The game was a nail-biter. It was deep in the third quarter and Kara was fidgeting, trapped behind the glass of the penalty box as she waited out the two-minute fine for high-sticking. As her eyes tracked the movements on the rink, she was dimly aware of the announcers' banter emanating from the radio someone had propped in the corner of the box.

_"…Kara Thrace, the phenom from Boston, Massachusetts. What a super story, Bud! Here's a junior from UBoston who… well, talk about being on the fast track! The Women's Hockey League is keeping an eye on this one! You know, they've been talking about what it will take to really be a contender with the NHL and Thrace might just be the secret weapon they need to do it."_

_"I believe it, Al. Thrace is one of the finest skaters in amateur hockey today. She's got the speed, the stick, and she's sure got that aggressive edge. But unlike a lot of players, she's proven she's got the strategy too. Thrace's out-of-the-box thinking has gotten Team USA out of some tight spots this series."_

_"It sure has, Bud. And boy, those retina-detaching moves of hers are something else! She's got the kind of firepower you don't see every day. I tell you, Kara Thrace is the real deal. Mark my words, we're seeing a star on the rise!"_

The voices droned on, but the buzzer sounded finally and she pushed her way out and off down the ice, blades digging hard. Kara skidded to a stop in the center of the rink. She narrowed her eyes and took in her competition, the hulking German forward across from her was sneering, looking not that different from a pit bull eyeing dinner. Kara smirked, setting her shoulders. This was supposed to intimidate her? Ha!  _Bring it, Helga._

The ref skated over and she dropped her gaze, focus narrowing on the small black disc he tossed onto the ice with a blow of his whistle. She shoulder-checked Helga a little bit harder than necessary, and took off, leaving the forward to choke on her ice dust.

Kara felt her instincts take hold, the stick became an extension of her hand, her feet pushing faster and faster. Deftly, she danced in and out between the opposing teammates, weaving and dodging, spinning to protect the puck until she finally got a clear shot at the net. Helga was still breathing down her neck and the rail loomed close ahead, but Kara didn't care. All that mattered was making this shot. She pitched forward hard, her body twisting awkwardly as she slapped the puck and sent it sprawling through the air. Even as she was falling into the safety glass, her eyes tracked the disc's trajectory, as it slipped just over the goalie's glove and sailed into the netting.

The crowd's roar rang in her ears as Kara's head hit the glass and heavy bodies slammed her from all sides. Her skull bounced hard into the thick plexiglass barrier and her helmet strap snapped suddenly, the headgear popping off and spinning on the pitted surface of the rink. Pain bloomed behind her right eye, sharp enough to make everything else fade, and Kara gasped and slithered down to the ice. Her last sight before she lost consciousness was the scoreboard clock running down to zero.

***

_This had to be a joke._

Dr. Saul Tigh was not a man given to joking about business though, despite the twinkly eyes and bushy mustache that made it hard for Kara to take him seriously normally. In fact, she often had an odd feeling when she looked at the team doctor, like his easy smile was out of place somehow. He'd never so much as raised his voice around Kara, but somehow she frequently found herself imagining him with a bit of a snarl. She shook her head suddenly, trying to focus on what he was telling her.

"—posterior vitreous detachment caused a small tear in the retina, which allowed fluid to seep through and peel it away. It's actually not that different from when you get a bubble in wallpaper."

She frowned. "You're kidding me, right? I thought that was just, like, a figure of speech or something?"

"Oh, no. Retinal detachment is a very real and serious injury, sometimes with grave consequences." He tilted his head, mouth turning downwards, and Kara's back stiffened. "And I'm afraid in your condition, it's resulted in a long-term loss of peripheral vision. Eighteen degrees in your right eye, to be specific." He paused, his voice solemn. "For most people, this would be an inconvenience, but for a hockey player…"

Her mouth went dry, not so much from the words, but the look in his eyes. Fucking pity. Kara felt a chill travel down her spine and she pushed it aside. "Okay, okay. So how long before it comes back? Two months? Three?" He was already shaking his head and she swallowed and tried not to panic.

"You've had extreme trauma to your occipital lobe—"

"Six?" Six was way too long. It was half a goddamn season and her time was now. Sponsors and the pro teams weren't going to wait around. In six months they'd have some other hotshot they were circling.

"You've got a blind side, Kara." He sighed. "It's a permanent condition."

She gaped at him for a second. No. There was no way. There had to be some way to fix this. She protested, her voice growing more desperate each time he repeated that there was no cure.

"Somebody, somewhere, down in Mexico City they shoot shark piss up your nose and make you sit in traction for—"

"I'm sorry," Dr. Tigh cut her off, not unkindly. "I don't see professional hockey in your future."

Kara froze, hearing the words echo in her mind, and a flame kindled, her temper igniting. What the fuck did he know? Who was this superior asshole sitting here and telling her what she could and couldn't do? She flexed a fist, feeling a strong urge to lay him flat.

He spoke up again. "Kara, I understand how you feel, but trust me, you can still have a full life."

"With all due respect, Doc, how the hell could you understand how I feel?" she snarled.

"I was a POW for a few months back in 'Nam." He lifted a finger tapping the cheekbone under his left eye. "This one's made of glass."

She stared at him and her fist slowly unfurled.  _Crap. She couldn't hit a fucking POW._  Some of the fury drained out of her and her shoulders slumped. No more hockey. Her whole life over. Just like that.

What the hell was she going to do now?  


***

_Eighteen Months Later_

Kara swung the hammer with a punishing blow, driving the nail into the wood so hard her hand twinged. Construction hadn't been her first choice, but it was honest work. At any rate, it was better than spending her days slumped on a bar stool, drinking her way through Karl's top shelf (he'd gotten plenty sick of that after her first few months home). And it was something to do while she waited for responses from the letters she'd sent to every hockey coach from here to Minsk. 

Not that there were many left who hadn't sent that fucking form letter rejection. They couldn't even be bothered to sign it usually. Karl gave her a concerned lecture every time another one came in, warning her not to get her hopes up. But Kara refused to give up, refused to believe the rest of her life would be spent punching a time clock and skating rings around the local boys in the bar league. There had to be something else out there.

"You're bigger than I expected."

The voice interrupted her wool-gathering and she tilted her head back, clutching a bit tighter to the wooden beams of the living room she was framing out and currently draped around. The woman below her looked to be in her 50s. Attractive with big red hair and a fancy-looking trenchcoat.

"What?" She shouted down over the music blasting from the boom box. The woman's brow wrinkled. No Botox here. Kara couldn't fathom who she might be or what she wanted.

"I've been watching your videos. You're a very exciting skater, Ms. Thrace."

Kara frowned and shifted positions, hooking her legs more tightly around the beams. "Hey look, lady, if you're a reporter, you're a little late. The story's been done."

"Actually, I'm not a reporter, I'm a coach." Kara blinked and couldn't stop the bubble of hope that immediately rose in her chest. But her natural wariness asserted itself and she tamped it down.

"This a setup?" she questioned, squinting at the stranger. "Did Karl send you out here?"

The woman just stared at her, bemused confusion on her face. "I'm not sure who Karl is, but I can assure you, I'm here of my own free will."

Kara's eyes widened. She unfolded herself and dropped down, landing gracefully on her feet. That drumline of anticipation kicked up in her heart again as she racked her brain trying to figure out where this woman could be from.

"You came down from Canada? From the reliefs?" It's the only thing that made sense she thought and let the hammer in her hand thunk down to the floor. Kara dashed over to the workbench and wrenched the dial on the radio, quieting the music to acceptable levels before running back. "I can't believe it! You got my letter." She beamed, the words tripping out in a furious stream. "Listen, you couldn't have come at a better time. I'm in the best shape of my life, skating five, six hours a night. Speed drills, stick drills, roadwork—"

"I'm not a hockey coach."

Kara paused, her mouth open, eyes darting around. She half expected to see Karl pop out, grinning and saying "Gotcha." Her gaze flicked back to the woman, her voice low and wary. "What is this?"

The redhead eyed her speculatively. "Maybe nothing," she mused softly. "Or…." The woman reached into a satchel strapped across her middle and pulled out a pair of pristine high-booted white skates. Kara's jaw dropped and she gulped in a breath. This chick had to be fucking kidding.

"Those are figure skates, lady."

***

Even the two beers Kara downed during the four hour limo ride didn't quell the edge of nerves thrumming through her. This was crazy. She was a hockey player, not some pansy-ass figure skater. Yet this coach, this Laura Roslin, had convinced her to give it a shot. Promised she'd make it worth Kara's while.

The truth was she probably would've done it without the payoff. She missed skating. Not just running drills alone on the pond behind Karl's bar, but competing. Striving for something. Hell, she still wanted that gold medal. It'd practically been in her grasp three years ago. And weak though it was, figure skating was still an Olympic sport. Besides, how hard could it be to twirl and leap around? Easier than taking hip checks and slapshots to the head, that's for sure. Maybe there was still a chance to make that medal hers.

She peered out the window, but couldn't see much through the tinted glass. The car rolled to a stop and Kara threw the door open and climbed out. She whistled a long, low tone, eyes big as saucers, as she took in the enormous stone mansion with its turrets and towers. There were iron bars on most of the windows. Kara half expected to look down and find a moat surrounding the damn thing.

Roslin came around the vehicle to join her. "Impressive, isn't it?"

She shrugged, "Mmmm." Her eyes swept over the structure once more. Impressive wasn't quite the word she would have used. "It's a little…much."

Roslin nodded with a slight toss of her bright red mane and simply said, "Bill likes his privacy."

Her eyes still fixed on the hulking abode before her, Kara thought that might be an understatement. The only way the big grey monolith could have been any more impenetrable was if it were in outer space or something.

She wondered about these people Roslin had told her she worked for. The Adamas. Kara had heard the name before, though she didn't pay much attention to figure skating as a general rule. Sweeping her eyes over the stone mansion again, she shivered suddenly, involuntarily, and Roslin interrupted any further thoughts with a nod of her head. "Please, follow me."

With some relief, Kara followed the woman around the side yard to a slightly smaller, barnlike structure. Roslin shoved open a heavy sliding door and Kara stepped through, blinking in surprise at the glorious sight that greeted her.

"You got your own rink," she breathed the words, her eyes darting to take in the huge expanse of ice before her.

"We have ice every day," Roslin said, with a careless gesture as she rounded the perimeter of the rink. Loud classical music was playing and in the center of the ice, a figure was spinning rapidly in a dark blur. Roslin dropped her bag next to a sleek surround sound system and clicked it off, the sudden silence loud somehow, and the blur froze on a dime, the indistinct shape reconfiguring into that of a man.

A drop-dead gorgeous, extremely pissed-off man.

The very first thing she noticed was that his eyes matched the ice. His gaze raked over her and Kara squared her shoulders and returned the onceover. He was all clenched jaw and high cheekbones, his face just as stony and sharp-angled as the castle. His hands went to his hips and Kara's eyes followed, tracking over a seriously toned spandex-clad torso, an impressive set of biceps, and heavily muscled thighs. Most male figure skaters she'd seen were on the scrawny side, but this guy looked like some kind of Greek statue.

"This isn't Shaw," he said. His tone was low, controlled but undeniably angry, as he addressed Roslin. "Where the hell is Shaw? I thought you said she'd be—"

"No." The coach waved him off with another casual gesture. "You said Shaw. This is Thrace. Kara Thrace."

Eyes narrowed, he sent another dismissive gaze sliding over her. "Thrace? Never heard of her."

Kara felt a prickle of irritation and raised a brow at Roslin. "He's a real charmer, eh?"

Roslin gave her that chilly, polite smile she'd been flashing all day and Kara thought, not for the first time, that the woman really should go into politics. But the coach simply turned back to the figure on the ice. "Kara is a beautiful skater."

She tried not to roll her eyes. Beautiful wasn't really the word most people used to describe her skating. Brutal, bone-crushing, balls-out…yes. Beautiful…not so much. But recognition was dawning in the ice prince's eyes finally. 

_About time_ , she thought, puffing out her chest.

"You're that hockey player." His lip lifted in a little sneer and his tone dripped with derision.

Clearly, someone had a chip on his shoulder. 

_Whatever._  He wouldn't be the first spoiled rich brat she'd ever dealt with. Stepping forward onto the ice, she held out a hand and tried on her best smile. "How ya doing?" She racked her brain for the name Roslin'd given her. "Lee, right?"

He simply stared at her outstretched hand for a few seconds, as if it were a dead fish or something. Then Roslin said, with a hint of exasperation finally breaching that calm tone, "It's a tryout, Leland," and he rolled his shoulders and reached out, his grasp hard, fingers folding tightly over hers and immediately tugging her closer to him. It was unexpected and Kara's feet slid a little on the ice. She lifted her head to find those cold eyes boring into her again, this time from mere inches away, but her hand was warm in his grasp, little sparks traveling up her arm from where their palms pressed together. Kara's eyes widened and he dropped her hand abruptly, sliding back a step. For a second, she thought she saw surprise on his face too, but then he scowled and she figured she'd imagined it.

He turned to Roslin, his face hard. "This isn't going to work."

Kara blinked; they hadn't even skated yet.

The coach crossed her arms and leveled a definitely skeptical gaze at Lee. "And why is that?"

Kara frowned, wondering what the heck his problem was, as he skated around her in a tight circle, eyes still sweeping up and down her body. "She's too big. How am I supposed to lift her?"

Her eyebrows raised. First Roslin, now this jerk making cracks about her weight. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but the coach spoke first. "She's a little bigger than the average skater, but so are those biceps. You're already bench-pressing 300 lbs, but if you can't handle it, we can increase your strength training."

He sniffed, but didn't respond, still peering at Kara, his gaze now focused on her head. "The hair is awful." Kara had to give him that one. In retrospect, cutting it herself in the bar bathroom on a poker bet had been a bad idea.

Irritation still swept through her though when Roslin calmly answered. "It'll grow out."

Lee stopped in front of her and his eyes locked on Kara's, then suddenly he was closing the distance between them, his face looming inches away from hers. For a split second, insane as the thought was, she was positive he was going to kiss her. Lee's head dipped, tilted closer, lips just centimeters from hers now. She could feel his warm breath on her skin. Kara's lips parted as she inhaled sharply and he leaned closer, closer, and then—

He sniffed her.

A loud obnoxious nostril-flaring sniff.

Lee's nose wrinkled in disgust, as he turned back to Roslin. "God, she smells like a brewery."

Embarrassed and furious suddenly ( _it had only been two beers!_ ), Kara whirled to face the coach too. "Hey, who's checking out who here?" she scowled. "Listen, lady, if you're looking for some kind of Barbie to go with Stick-Up-his-Ass Ken here, I'm not your girl."

"Oh, you're a girl?" Lee snitted, eyes dismissively raking over her again. "Could've fooled me."

Kara's fingers flexed, itching to lay this jerk out, but she kept her voice mild and calm. "I'm not surprised. You probably don't meet too many of them with that sparkling personality."

That had him turning, his face taut and angry and so close she could see the individual hairs of stubble on his jawline. "I don't know how many slapshots you've taken to the brain, but let's get one thing perfectly clear. This was your audition. And let me assure you, it's over."

"Hey, Prince Charming, relax! I'm no figure skater, I'm a hockey player.

"Precisely. So what are you doing here?"

Kara glared but had no response. She was starting to wonder that herself.

He raised an eyebrow and turned to Roslin with an infuriatingly smug grin. "Get this… _street urchin_  out of my building." With that, Lee turned his back and skated away.

But the damage had already been done. His words turned Kara's vision red. She bounded after him and jumped, hands hooking his shoulders as she shoved a knee into the small of his back, and he fell to the ice. The momentum made the punch she'd already swung at his kidney fall softer than she'd intended, but he was quick. Lee reached back, twisting, and grabbed her wrists, rolling them over.

They were both panting and his body was heavy on hers, pressing her into the ice, and the next minute a rush of arousal was flooding her system. Suddenly all Kara could think about was the fact that it'd been months since she'd gotten laid. Not a girl, huh?, she thought and bucked her hips up, half to throw him off, half to just see how the ice prince here would react, but the guy just tightened his grip, face blank, cold gaze burning through her. Well, what'd she expect? He was probably gay anyway.

She shifted again, getting ready to knee him in the balls, when Roslin interjected. "THAT'S ENOUGH. Get up, right now!" They both froze at the tone and Lee released her wrists and shifted off her, getting to his feet. Kara followed, a bit more slowly.

"We are done grappling like children in a schoolyard," she frowned at them. "Pairs means two. Leland, you need a partner. You're skating nowhere fast." Prince Charming huffed with exasperation, as Roslin turned to her. "And you can't play hockey anymore. Those days are over. But you can skate. This could be your second chance. Unless you want to go back to building bungalows in Boston." She leveled a gaze at Kara. "I have no doubt that I'm the last person coming to look for you."

Her shoulders sank at Roslin's blunt words. Damn her for being right. She shifted her head slightly so she could sneak a glance at Lee. Was she really going to be able to deal with this insufferable prig long-term? He caught her looking, the slightly abashed expression he wore softening his face just the slightest bit. Kara took it as a sign of compromise, or at least knowing when they were beat. Under all those pleasant smiles, Roslin was a formidable woman.

She must have seen something in Kara's face that looked like agreement, because she lifted the skates that dangled from her hand and pushed them gently towards her chest. "Good. Now put these on, and let me see what I have to work with here."

She took them and headed to the bench, slipping the skates on. As she pulled the laces tight, double knotting them, Kara wondered again exactly what the hell she'd gotten herself into.

***

She was flying.

Or at least this must be what flying felt like, Kara imagined, as she circled the rink. The ice was far smoother than the pond at home, and she gained speed and momentum with every lap. The fancy surroundings and the two figures watching her faded away as Kara just reveled in the motion, feeling the push-pull in her thighs and calves, and hearing the quiet slice of metal on ice. Not many better sounds in this world.

She grinned as she completed her fifth lap and closed her eyes, twisting to skate the next circuit backwards. These skates were actually heavier than her hockey boots, and the thicker blade made Kara's strides stronger and faster. On impulse, she decided to throw in one of her favorite moves. Pushing harder, she picked up speed, then suddenly kicked up and over into a backflip. She landed a little heavy on both feet and her ankles wobbled in the unfamiliar skates but she held. Feeling triumphant, she skated back to Roslin and Lee and turned sideways automatically to slide to a stop, but the tip of her left foot caught on the ice and Kara pitched over, landing sprawled on the rink in an inelegant heap.

"Oof." Two shiny black skates glided into her field of vision and she looked up to find Lee smirking down at her.

"Nice trick. What do you do for an encore? Roll over and beg?"

Narrowing her eyes, Kara struggled to her feet on the spindly blades, then leaned in close enough that her nose was almost touching his. Let's see how he liked a little invasion of his personal space. "Why? You want to pet my tummy?" she asked mockingly, drawling out her vowels in an overly husky whisker, "Leland?"

Glowering, he slid back a step, crossing his arms over his chest, but Kara watched the tips of his ears flush pink. _Hmm, maybe not so gay, then._ Smirking, she turned away and looked down at the ice to see what she'd tripped on. It was smooth as a mirror. She checked her skate and noticed a small row of sharp teeth at the tip of the blade. "Hey! What's this claw thingy?"

"It's called the toepick," Lee answered, derision dripping from every syllable even as he skated around in front of her and came to a showy abrupt stop by digging the little claw into the ice.

"Toepick?" Kara smirked. "Sounds like a personal hygiene problem to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure hygiene's a foreign concept to you, but I wouldn't let it get in your way."

She grinned, cocking a brow right back at him. "Oh, I don't let anything get in  _my_ way."

Their gazes locked again, but then Roslin, who was standing at the rail, called out, "Not bad. Now let's see you together." She nodded to Lee and he skated up behind her, reaching down and grasping her right hip without any preamble. Kara tensed, the warmth of his palm bleeding right through her jeans and jersey. For a cold guy, he sure gave off a lot of heat. He reached down and picked up her left hand with his, holding it out to the side. Little tingles shot up her arm again and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

"Kara, you'll lead," the coach instructed. "Just set an easy pace and Lee will match you. Begin."

She pushed off, instinctively bending forward into her usual skating position, and his fingers dug into her hip and pulled at her arm, wrenching her back towards him.

"Shoulders back, spine straight, head up," Roslin called.

She tried to skate in the unnatural position but it was uncomfortable. Kara felt restrained and awkward. Her tread was heavy when she pushed into the ice, nothing like the easy gliding she was doing before, and she kept thinking she was going to tangle her feet with Lee's. Instinctively she went faster, trying to put enough distance between them to avoid a collision. But his hand on her hip slid forward, fingers spreading against her stomach as he pulled her back towards him again, anchoring her in place. "Stop fighting me and slow down," he snapped. "It's not a race."

Kara forced herself to pull back a little, tried to concentrate on the instructions Roslin was shouting. It was intensely strange to be skating in such close proximity and synchronicity with another body. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the rhythm of Lee's strides, matching her own to it.

"Better. Much Better."

Her eyes opened, gaze skipping over to Roslin as, suddenly, the wide door at the end of the rink slid open and a man stepped through. He was stocky, his face heavily lined and unsmiling. That and the fact that he surveyed the rink with an air of ownership told Kara this had to be Bill Adama, the king of the castle. "That your dad?"

A pause, then a swift, clipped answer. "Yes."

Kara raised an eyebrow. Okay, clearly there were some issues there. Her eyes went back to the man, who was discussing something with Roslin that seemed to clearly be making her upset. Her arms were crossed and they were both scowling. She threw up her hands and turned slightly away, but Adama reached out and laid a hand on her arm. Roslin turned back and their eyes locked. Even halfway across the rink, Kara could see that there was some serious fireworks between these two.

"So are they, like, an item?" There was silence in response and she turned her head to find Lee staring at her incredulously.

"What?"

"Roslin and your dad? They together?"

"God, no." He made a face of distaste and she was intrigued by the strong reaction.

"What's a matter? She's kinda smoking, for an older lady." She watched the tip of his ear flush again and Kara laughed. "Wait. Don't tell me you're hot for teacher?"

His face twisted again. "She's old enough to be my mother! God, are you always this crude?"

"Nah," Kara shrugged cheerfully. "Sometimes I'm a lot worse."

"Great," Lee sighed. "Something to look forward to."

"So, speaking of moms, is the lady of the manor gonna show up too?"

There was no response, and she twisted her neck to see his face. It was closed up as tight as a clamshell, his lips in a grim line.

"What? I just wondered if this was a family affair and all, since your dad's here, obviously checking up on—"

"No."

"How come?" Kara asked, undeterred, her curiosity piqued by his brusqueness. "She's not a fan?"

Another long pause. "None of your goddamn business," Lee said, voice colder than the air in the rink, as he dropped his hands and broke away, skating on without her.

Kara glided absently on her own.  _Well. So much for trying to have a normal conversation._ Distracted, she started to turn into a stop only to get caught and stumble, falling to the ice again. She winced as Lee's self-satisfied call floated down the length of the rink to her. "Tooooooepick!"

She heaved herself up again, and was about to take off down the ice after him when Roslin called to her, waving her over. Kara skated over to the edge of the rink where the coach and Bill Adama stood, studying her with inscrutable eyes. Carefully, she used the metal teeth to come to a stop.

"Bill would like to speak to you privately, Kara," Roslin said, her voice tight. Clearly she hadn't won whatever argument they'd been having. "Why don't you follow him to the main house?"

A sinking feeling settled in her gut. But Kara nodded and climbed out of the rink, pulling the skates off and slipping her sneakers back on, reliving the way it had felt back in high school when she was sent to the principal's office. Her gaze skipped to Roslin, but the woman wasn't looking her way. Her face was tight with frustration. Lee was halfway across the ice, skating figure eights and staring at the rink like he might burn a hole through it.

What a waste of good ice  
, Kara thought as she stood and followed Bill Adama out of the building.


	2. Chapter 2

The glass box, lined with velvet and on its own table beneath the office’s track lighting, was empty.    
  
Kara stared at it, wondering how long it had sat here, waiting to be filled. The weight of it, just thinking about it, was enough to drag her own shoulders down.    
  
“Stare at it long enough you’ll start to see an Olympic gold medal in there.”    
  
She startled, turning as Bill Adama returned to the room. He introduced himself, rather needlessly, and encouraged her to sit. Kara sank down in one of the leather upholstered chairs in front of a massive wooden desk. Her gaze flicked around the room as Bill circled it and settled into the chair behind it.    
  
“Listen, I spoke with Laura Roslin. First of all, the fact that she brought you out here should make you feel proud. Laura is a very discerning woman and quite possibly the greatest judge of skating talent in the world.” He reached into his suit jacket pocket, pulling out a pen and slid a checkbook on the desk close to him. Kara watched the pen scrawl as he kept talking. “I saw you skate in Calgary. You were a great, great hockey player. I don’t want you to feel like this was a waste of your time.” He ripped the check off and flourished it in the air, then stuffed it into a leather folder, like the kind the check came in at fancy restaurants. “It was worth a shot.”    
  
Kara blinked. So that was it? She came all the way out here to be tossed out like yesterday’s trash because some rich kid couldn’t get over himself and play nice. Her eyes narrowed. Maybe he had Daddy fix all his problems by waving a fat check at them.    
  
“What? Is it the eye?”    
  
A slight look of surprise passed over his face, as he cut his eyes to her, as if he wasn’t expecting any questions. “No, the eye isn’t a problem.”    
  
She nodded. “Then is it  _your son_ ?”    
  
The man sighed, taking his spectacles off and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Lee is… Lee. His mother indulged him when he was young and the strain of competition…” the man stopped, the words choking off suddenly. “Let’s just say that sudden changes tend to bring out his color.”    
  
“Oh, is that what that was?” She could think of some other words for it.    
  
He smiled for a second, but then handed her the leather envelope. “Your travel arrangements are taken care of and there’s a check for your trouble. I think you’ll find it more than generous.”    
  
Kara still wasn’t sure she even wanted to have any part of this, but it irritated her anyway that he thought it was going to be this easy to get rid of her. She leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees and eyeballing him. “And this is what you call giving me a shot?”    
  
Bill Adama frowned. “Time is not on our side. I can’t afford to be wrong about you.” She bit back a pithy comment about what he could afford, but Bill nailed her with his gaze. “Frankly, the idea of a hockey player was a little bizarre to me. I need the best.” His face softened slightly and he corrected himself. “ _Lee_  needs the best.”    
  
“I  _am_  the best.” She started rattling off stats, awards she’d won, but he held up a hand.    
  
“We were forty-five seconds away from a gold medal. That damn glass box is still empty for a reason. I need someone who can get the job done.” He waved a sheaf of papers in the air. “Thirty-five female figure skaters. These girls have been doing this for years and they couldn’t cut it.” He picked up the first sheet, reading from it. “Henderson. No stamina.” Bill crumpled it in his hand and tossed it towards a gold urn serving as a waste basket. It missed.    
  
“Edmondson. No rhythm.”    
  
He threw another. It missed.    
  
“Mathias, Barolay, Seelix.” He slammed the sheaf of papers down in front of Kara. “Not one single pressure player in the bunch.”    
  
The silence fell heavy in the quiet room and Kara leaned forward again, snagging the top sheet in the pile. She glanced toward the urn. It was about ten feet away, an easy shot. She looked back to Bill, locking eyes on him as she crumpled the paper and shot without shifting her gaze. Her peripheral vision might be impaired, but she didn’t need to turn her head to tell she’d hit a bullseye.    
  
Bill looked towards the urn, then smiled condescendingly. “Lucky shot.”    
  
She smirked and picked up the leather folder, flipping it open and surveying the obscene amount of zeroes on the check. For a second, she had a pang of doubt. That could buy a new boiler for the bar. She could take this check and get the hell away from this freak show.    
  
_And do what?_ , her brain traitorously inquired. Work construction the rest of her life? Be another mouth for Karl and Sharon to feed. No way.    
  
There was also the principle of the matter. Kara might be a lot of things, but she was no quitter. And if there was even a chance she could make this work… Well, if she played her cards right, she could buy a whole room full of boilers with one post-Olympic endorsement.    
  
If Bill Adama wanted a pressure player, she’d show him pressure.    
  
Kara met his eyes, lifting the check and waving it in the air. “Double or nothing?”    
  
The older man’s face was unreadable for a moment, then he smiled, slowly. “You’re on.”    
  
She crumpled the check. It sailed through the air and landed with a hollow clunk.    
  
“Well,” Bill said, turning considering eyes on her. He settled back in his chair with a sharp nod and a twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”    
  
Twenty minutes later, Kara walked out of the office, a cigar between her lips and at least five stories about Bill Adama’s days as a former military pilot under her belt. They were both still chuckling over the last one, headed for the door, when Bill turned and said, “Oh, Lee. I’m glad you’re here.”    
  
The guy looked like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “I, uh, I just came to say goodbye.” He flashed a completely fake smile at Kara.    
  
“Actually, Kara’s going to be staying with us for a while,” his father said and Lee’s eyes widened for just a second.    
  
“I see,” he said, nostrils flaring slightly. “And you made this decision without even asking my opinion.”    
  
Adama paused, then, in a chilly, quiet voice, said, “It’s the end of the line, son.”    
  
The two of them stared at each other intensely and for the first time, she saw a hint of resemblance in their stiff carriages and tight lips. The silence stretched so long that Kara started to feel uncomfortable, so she cleared her throat and said overly loudly, “Well, it was good talking to you, sir.”    
  
“Please, call me Bill.”    
  
She smiled then turned toward Lee, let her voice drop a couple octaves just to see if his ears would go pink again. “Catch your act tomorrow.” She winked and had to squelch a peal of laughter that threatened to erupt at the look on his face. Maybe this would be more fun than she’d thought. Kara took a long puff on her cigar and sailed out the front door, blowing smoke rings into the crisp air.    
  
***    
  
Kara’s good mood was gone by the time she stumbled into the rink at the ungodly hour of 6 am the next morning. The bed in the carriage house’s guest room was softer than she was used to, and she hadn’t been able to find any coffee in the kitchen, just boxes of tea. _Decaf_  tea.    
  
Lee was huddled with the coach at the side of the ice, listening with rapt attention, as Kara tromped over and plopped down heavily on the bench to lace up her skates. Suddenly his laughter rang out, startlingly bright and loud, at something Roslin said. She frowned, resenting his cheerful demeanor. Next thing you knew he’d probably break into song or something. And then she’d have to plant a toepick right in his—    
  
“You’re gonna skate in that?”    
  
She looked up to find him staring down at her, joviality gone as scornful eyes sized her up.    
  
“Gee, I must’ve left my ball gown at the cleaners,” she said mockingly, then shrugged. “What’s wrong with this?”    
  
“It’s a  _hockey_  jersey.”    
  
“Yeeeeesssss,” she said, stretching out the word slowly, and carefully enunciating her syllables. “And I’m a hockey player.”    
  
“Exactly.”    
  
She frowned at him, not getting it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”    
  
He just shook his head and sighed heavily, so Kara got up and stepped closer to him, her eyes raking down his body. Lee was wearing tight black pants and a weird thin blue shirt with a sort of wide v-neck. Kara poked him in the chest. “What, so I’m supposed to wear stuff like this?" She plucked at the strange silky material.    
  
" _This_  is regulation lycra." He batted her hand away.    
  
_Regulation lycra? Was he for real?_  Kara tilted her head, scrutinizing him, then shrugged. "At least it's not pink,” she smirked and turned to glide away, hoping to get a few more laps in before Roslin, who was talking on her cell, called for their attention. She still hadn’t really gotten the hang of how to stop with those claw things. But fingers suddenly grasped her elbow hard, holding her in place. She looked up to find Lee glowering at her again.    
  
“What do you think you’re doing, Thrace?”    
  
She raised an eyebrow. “Let’s see, I’ve got metal blades strapped to my feet and we’re standing on a frozen pool of water… What does it look like I’m doing,  _Adama_ ?”    
  
“From where I stand, wasting everyone’s time,” he hissed. “Because you clearly have no intention of taking this seriously.”    
  
Her eyes widened. He thought she wasn’t serious about this? “Gosh, I guess you figured out my secret plan. I was a little bored, so I decided to come all the way out here to East Bumfuck and let some arrogant, spoiled, jackass insult me six ways to Sunday just for the shits and giggles.”    
  
Lee shook his head, dropping her arm like her skin had burned him. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering. You won’t last the week,” he sneered.    
  
“You think I’m a quitter?” Kara’s eyes narrowed.    
  
“I think you can’t skate.”    
  
Kara skated closer, stopping mere inches from Lee’s face. “There’s only two things that I do really well, pal,” she smirked, “and skating’s the other one!”    
  
His eyes flashed and that little muscle on the side of his jaw jumped again, and underneath the anger and frustration, Kara felt a kick of adrenaline, her pulse quickening. Her gaze fixed on the way his skin tightened and flexed under his cheekbone, even as he opened his mouth to fire back at her.    
  
“If the two of you are done arguing pointlessly,” Roslin’s stern voice interjected, her timing impeccable yet again, “I’d really like to get started.”    
  
Kara jerked back, startled. She’d almost forgotten the coach was even in the rink. Feeling sheepish, she pivoted to find Roslin eying them both with a scrutinizing gaze.    
  
“Let’s try and channel some of that  _vigor_  into our skating, shall we?”    
  
****    
  
They spent the better part of the morning just circling the ice together. For all that hockey was a contact sport, skating in such close proximity to someone else made Kara’s instincts scream to throw an elbow. She tamped them down though and tried to focus on the instructions Roslin kept calling out to her. Wouldn’t want to be accused of not being serious again.    
  
“Shoulders back, head up, stretch that free arm. Think of yourselves as one body, not two. Lee is an extension of your limbs. He braces and supports you, Kara.”    
  
_Yeah, he’s being real supportive_ , she thought five minutes later from her prone position on the ice as Lee skated in front of her, crowing “toepick” in an obnoxious gloating voice. She sighed and struggled to her feet and they skated on.    
  
Two circuits later Lee leaned forward, hissing in her ear, “That little stunt you pulled yesterday with the flip? You can’t do those in competition you know. They’re not allowed.”    
  
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the newsflash. But I did the flip because it was fun.” She threw a sideways glance his way. “You know, FUN? That thing you’ve probably never had in your whole damn life?”    
  
Roslin called out for them to change positions and they turned sideways, Kara in the lead, Lee with a vice grip on her hand.    
  
“I’ve had plenty of fun, thank you.”    
  
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re the life of the party. Bet that perma-scowl brings all the girls to the yard.”    
  
He pursed his lips. “As a matter of fact, I do have a girlfriend, actually.”    
  
“Really?” she drawled, surprise. “What do you do, keep her chained in the basement?”    
  
“Gianne, at the moment, is working abroad,” he answered, nose lifting into the air. “She’s an investment banker in my father’s London office.”    
  
“She sounds pretty smart.” Lee nodded smugly, but Kara went on. “Bet you’re a barrel of laughs from a couple thousand miles away.”    
  
Abruptly, he let go of her hand, throwing her slightly off balance, and as Kara instinctively turned to stop, she crashed to the ground. When she opened her eyes, Lee was bent over, staring at her. The look on his face read smug bastard. “Don’t quit your day job.”    
  
***    
  
Four more tumbles to the ice later, they’d managed to get into enough of a groove that seemed to temporarily satisfy Roslin, and she called them over.    
  
“Okay, good. Now let’s try something different. Arms out, Kara. Lee, let’s do a basic lift.”    
  
Before she could protest, his hands slid under her biceps and her blades left the ice. Kara tensed, feeling helpless and uncomfortable just hanging in the air, as Lee held the position.    
  
“Ok, down.”    
  
Lee lowered her to the ice, and skated around her, already addressing Roslin. “I told you it wasn’t going to work. She’s too—”    
  
“Hey!” Kara barked and lifted her jersey, smacking her hand against flat abs, as she nailed Lee with a glare. “ _This?_  Is all muscle. Maybe you’re used to stick figures in tutus, but I do not have a weight problem.”    
  
She watched his eyes slide up and down in what could only be called a deliberate move, before he leveled his gaze and said, with more than a hint of arrogance, “Well, I think your ego could sure as hell stand to go on a diet.”    
  
Roslin held up a hand before they could start another verbal tennis match and turned to Lee. “It’s true that you two are more evenly matched than most pairs.” Her eyes swept over both of them with a calculated look and she paused dramatically. “Which is why we’ll just have to be smarter.”    
  
Kara looked at her blankly and then to Lee, who was crossing his arms, one eyebrow raised. “I take it you have a plan?” he asked.    
  
The coach smiled, a glint in her eye. “We turn our disadvantage to an advantage. Kara’s strength will be our secret weapon.”    
  
“Now, you’re talking!” Kara said, while at the same time, Lee mumbled, “Why don’t I like the sound of this?”    
  
“We’ve been playing it safe, Leland, and I think it’s fair to say it hasn’t been working. So perhaps it’s time we shake up the status quo.” Her eyes sparkled as she warmed to her subject. “Kara’s lack of training could be an asset. This is our chance to try something new.”    
  
Lee frowned, but he said. “So what do you have in mind?”    
  
Both skaters watched her expectantly. “For as long as I can remember, pairs figure skating has always told the same old story. The woman as delicate flower, the man as strong protector. We turn that on its head,” she smiled. “We craft a routine that highlights the fact that you’re so evenly matched. We showcase your synchronicity and your power by using reverse lifts and throws and side-by-side quad axels.” She paused and flashed a sly grin at Kara. “And perhaps we’ll even find room for that backflip in the program.”    
  
Kara grinned back, feeling some real excitement build for the first time at Roslin’s plan. She didn’t know what half those things the coach had just mentioned were yet, but they sounded fun. And if the appalled look on Lee’s face was any indication, they probably were.    
  
“Quads? Are you—Are you kidding?” Lee’s eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth gaped, as he raked a hand through his hair. “No one does quads. And I don’t think reverse throws are even legal in pairs!”    
  
“Cripes, listen to yourself.  _That’s not regulation, that’s not legal_ ,” Kara mimicked. “Are you capable of doing a single thing that’s not straight out of some rule book? Or that daddy hasn’t approved in triplicate first?” His face grew even darker. “Or are you just afraid you’ll get your ass handed to you, Adama?    
  
“By you? That’s amusing, Thrace, considering yours spends more time polishing the ice than the Zamboni machine.” He sucked in a breath, biting off the words. “What I’m afraid of is the judges knocking so many points off that our score ends up looking like your IQ.”    
  
“We won’t break the rules,” Roslin interjected. “We’ll just…bend them a little. There’s nothing specifically stating that the man can’t be lifted or thrown by the woman. It just doesn’t happen that often because most female pairs skaters don’t have the strength and stamina.” The coach beamed at Kara. “I think we’ll be the exception to the rule.”    
  
“This is crazy.” Lee shook his head, a hand lifting to scrub over his mouth, doubt written all over his face. Roslin softened her voice.    
  
“Maybe it is. It’s time to try something new, Leland. We need to think outside of the box.”    
  
He shared a long look with the coach, and then his shoulders dropped. “Fine. We’ll play it your way.” Lee fisted his hands on his hips and turned away, eyes boring into the ice, and Roslin shook her head for a moment before turning her attention. “Kara?”    
  
She winked at the coach. “Out of the box is where I live.”    
  
****    
  
Six hours later, Kara clambered off the ice, slipped her blade protectors on, and sank onto the hard bench with a heavy exhale. She hadn’t known there were this many muscles in the human body. And every single one of hers ached. Even her brain throbbed, chock-full of new lingo like salchow and swizzle.    
  
She winced when Lee plopped down heavily next to her and bent over to tug at his laces. He’d barely said anything all afternoon, just clammed up after Roslin revealed her big plan. He’d even resisted gloating at her each time she’d taken another spill and ended up spread-eagled on the ice.    
  
Kara dragged her own leg up, ignoring the burn in her thighs, and untied her skates. She snuck a look at Lee’s face, but it was completely unreadable, a perfect mask of blankness. He’d be a total shark at cards, she thought, because that was one hell of a poker face. An image flashed in her mind suddenly of Karl’s bar, the regulars crowded around the big round table in the corner with the wobbly leg, smoking and drinking and talking all over each other as they tossed their money into the pot for Texas Hold ‘Em, and Kara felt a sharp pang of homesickness.    
  
And all she had was Roslin, who was friendly but politely formal most of the time, and the ice prince here for company for the foreseeable future. She supposed she should try to make the best of it. Lee was obnoxious, but they’d have to work together, closely, for months, and the verbal sparring, while exhilarating now, would probably get old real soon. She cleared her throat as she eased the skates off and picked up her sneakers.    
  
“What do you really think of Roslin’s plan?”    
  
He shot her a surprised glance and she didn’t think he was going to answer at first, but then he said, “I think it’s foolishly,” Lee paused, yanking a skate off, “needlessly,” he jerked the other skate off, “risky.” They fell with a clatter to the floor. “That’s what I think.”    
  
Kara frowned. “You have to admit it’s sorta exciting though, right? I mean, you’ve been doing this for years, you have to be sick of the same old same old.”    
  
“Look, the judges don’t like change, and if you try to force it down their throats, the only thing you’ll get for your trouble is a bunch of deductions or maybe, if they really hate it, a disqualification.” He jerked his other skate off with a hard tug and dropped it to the floor too.    
  
“Oh, so it’s the judges who don’t like change, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, smirking at him, and he rolled his eyes and shrugged a shoulder. Still, Kara considered his words as she pulled on her sneakers. She didn’t know much about skating dos and don’ts but she figured Lee knew what he was talking about.    
  
“So why’d you give in?” she asked. “Why didn’t you put your foot down and tell her you wouldn’t skate it?”    
  
Lee scowled and jammed his feet into a pair of boots, swept up his skates and grabbed his duffel, standing and hefting the bag over his shoulder. As his arm flexed, Kara’s eyes got stuck on the rather impressive bulge of his bicep for a moment and by the time they’d skipped back up to his face it was smooth and blank again.    
  
“The lady’s in charge.” He shrugged, then turned and walked away.    
  
She shook her head as she watched him head out the door. It was weird. Lee sure as hell didn’t have trouble asserting himself with her, but he seemed to let his father and Roslin make all the big decisions for him. It was like he was just going through the motions. Even his skating, which Kara had to admit was technically perfect, seemed a little rote. He hadn’t smiled once in the six hours they’d practiced today, not even after he pulled off some complicated new jump Roslin had him try. Nothing seemed to break through his façade of grim determination.    
  
Maybe she’d been wrong, Kara realized. Maybe Lee Adama wasn’t Prince Charming at all. Maybe he was Sleeping Beauty.    
  
And, she thought, a grin curving her lips, maybe he just needed someone to wake his ass up. 

***

  
“And if I hear the word “toepick” one more time…” Kara trailed off, as strong fingers rubbed the soreness out of her muscles. The aches and pains that were her near constant companions now were receding under Roslin’s steady hands and she found her tongue growing looser as the stress and tension fled. “So has he always been like that?”    
  
“Like what?”    
  
“Smug. Insufferable. A superior asshole.”    
  
She twisted her head around and caught Roslin smirking over her shoulder, but the woman just said, “I’ve only been here for three years, but Lee is…well, he’s very focused on getting what he wants. And he usually gets it.” She sighed. “Bill Adama might not be the world’s greatest father, but he certainly spares no expense when it comes to his son.”    
  
She couldn’t argue with that, because this place was amazing. Kara still felt giddy every time she stepped on to that private rink. All that perfect ice just waiting for her. And Lee Adama didn’t even seem to appreciate it. “Well, for a guy with everything, he sure seems miserable. You know, sometimes, I don’t even think he likes to skate.”    
  
“Did you like working construction?”    
  
“… No.”    
  
“So why did you do it?”    
  
“Because I—Because I had to. It was a job and…” she paused, thinking of Karl and Sharon, “I had people counting on me.”    
  
“Precisely.”    
  
Kara opened her mouth to protest that, unlike herself, Lee surely had other opportunities. He had money and means; hell, he could do anything he wanted. But then suddenly she thought of that empty glass case in Bill’s study and the way he’d come down to watch them skate every day, sometimes calling Roslin aside to talk but never his son.    
  
She wouldn’t trade places for all the money in the world.    
  
Kara shifted, sighing as the coach massaged her hamstring. Three weeks of this gig and she was still tired and sore every night after practice. Icepacks were her favorite new fashion accessory and a few times she’d even keeled over right at the dinner table she was so tired.    
  
Roslin never seemed to mind though. She might be hardcore on the ice, but the coach was pretty quiet at home, doing most of the cooking and cleaning at the carriage house. Roslin patted her leg, indicating she was done, and Kara sat up, pulling her towel around her, and surveyed the coach. She was still pretty hot for an older lady, this glorified babysitting gig must be cramping her style.    
  
“So what do you guys do for fun around here anyway?”    
  
“Fun?” Roslin raised a perfectly plucked brow in confusion. “We train.”    
  
Kara felt like she was having déjà vu. What was with these people? She’d been here less than a month and she was already starting to feel restless. Roslin and the Adamas seemingly never left the grounds—she’d be stir crazy by now in their shoes.    
  
“But not 24-7. I mean you are allowed to have a life, right? Lee’s Old Man doesn’t chain you to the bed or anything after I go to sleep at night, does he?”    
  
To her surprise and amusement, her unflappable coach flushed, a deep red spreading up the woman’s neck as she pressed a fluttering hand to her collarbone and let out a positively girlish giggle.    
  
Kara grinned and raised her hands. “Unless that’s exactly the kind of fun you two wild and crazy kids have been having, in which case, color me impressed.” She winked at the coach and dropped her voice to an exaggerated stage whisper. “Those strong, silent types usually turn out to be tigers in the sack.”    
  
Roslin’s eyes widened and another peal of laughter floated out and this time Kara joined in. It was the best laugh she’d had in weeks, actually, and she made a mental note that she needed to lighten the heck up. Hell, they all needed to lighten up around here.    
  
But the coach was already gasping and sobering up. “I assure you, no one is chaining up anyone around here.” She bit her lip, shaking her head. “Even if it is a tempting thought. Bill Adama can be an incredibly stubborn and difficult man.”    
  
“Must run in the family,” Kara said wryly. “Good thing he’s got you to keep him in line then, huh?”    
  
Roslin tilted her head and shrugged. “Oh, his life is all about drawing lines. He doesn’t need me for that.” She looked troubled suddenly and Kara was about to ask more when the coach leaned over and patted her knee. “But enough chatter, you should go to bed. We’ll start bright and early again tomorrow. Goodnight, Kara.”    
  
“’Night.” She watched the coach turn and walk out of the room, shutting herself into the bedroom across the hall, closing the door with a heavy click. First Lee, now Roslin. Was anyone actually happy around here? Kara stayed curled up on the couch for a while, her mind churning with all they’d talked about until her brain started feeling fuzzy. In the end, she just kept coming back to one indisputable fact:    
  
They all needed to laugh a hell of a lot more around here.    
  
***    
  
The crowd was roaring again.    
  
Kara charged hard down the ice, stick guiding the puck protectively, as she headed for the goal. No one could touch her.    
  
“There’s five seconds left on the clock. It’s gonna be a close one. Can she do it, folks?” Kara narrated, as she dug a blade into the ice and swung her stick into the air, “She skates.” The wooden stick made a thud as it connected hard with the round black disc, sending it whirling towards the goal line. “She shoots.” The puck sailed cleanly between the posts and Kara raised her arms in triumph as she watched it go. “SHE SCORES!”    
  
She whooped and hollered, her voice loud in the relatively empty rink, but buffered by the cheers of thousands in her head as she skated over to the side of the ice and dropped down to re-tape her stick next to her sole audience member.    
  
“You know, they say talking to yourself is a sign of mental illness,” Lee sniffed from the chair he was sprawled in, not looking up from the thick-spined book cracked open on his lap.    
  
“Well, it’s not like I have any other options.”    
  
“If you’re so bored, why don’t you read?” He paused, then smirked unpleasantly. “You can read, can’t you?”    
  
“Sure,” she winked, “you know, if the words are small enough.”    
  
He eyed her suspiciously. “What was the last book you read? You  _were_  in college?”    
  
“Wait a second—is this you starting an actual conversation, here?” Kara raised an eyebrow. In the past six weeks, Lee Adama had either insulted or ignored her at every possible opportunity. This was the longest string of sentences he’d willingly said to her that weren’t about figure skating.    
  
His eyes narrowed and he said, imperiously, “I merely asked if you knew how to read.”    
  
“Last thing I read in college was the letter cancelling my scholarship.” She twisted the tape in a tight spiral, looping it around the grip, and tore the roll off harder than necessary.    
  
“Okay, high school then.”    
  
This time she smiled. “I was the star of the hockey team. The  _boys’_  hockey team. Only thing I had to read was a scoreboard.”    
  
“And they passed you?”    
  
“They revered me. I was God.” She smirked. “Some of the JV kids even started calling me that.”    
  
He rolled his eyes. “I suppose that explains the ego.” He lowered his head again, eyes already scanning the page and Kara was surprised to realize she didn’t want this conversation to end, meager and patronizing as it was. Her life was reduced to training, eating rabbit food (Roslin had them on strict diets), and sleeping these days. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually talked about something other than figure eights and footwork sequences.    
  
“So, what about you?” She asked, putting the stick aside and turning her attention to Lee. “Where’d you  _matriculate_  from?”    
  
He raised his head, an eyebrow arching at her words.    
  
Kara preened. “Liked that one, huh?”    
  
Lee shook his head, but she thought she saw his lips quirk before he turned his attention back down to his book. “I had tutors.” He paused and she watched his face shift into a definite frown. “Excellent tutors.”    
  
There was a defensive note in his voice, like he expected another barb from her, but Kara let it drop. Her childhood had been a bit rough, but high school and college had been a blur of friends and parties and championship games. She pictured a smaller, younger Lee stuck here, skating all the time with only adults around and she felt a sharp pang for him. No wonder the guy was such a basket case.    
  
Lee looked up suddenly as if he knew what she was thinking and closed his book with a heavy clap, jolting out of the chair. “Would you please move your…  _clubs_ ?” he snapped. She lifted her sticks off the ice and laid them against the wall, then twisted back to watch him as he skated in small circles. Lee’s face was tight again, his expression oddly blank. If he didn’t move so fluidly, she’d almost think he was like one of those robots out of a sci-fi flick. Suddenly Kara had a random flash of him in her mind covered in metal, red lasers for eyes burning a hole in the rink, and she sputtered with laughter.    
  
“What’s so funny?”    
  
“Maybe I’m imagining you naked.”    
  
“You are unbelievably juvenile.” He was glaring down his nose at her, imperious and disapproving, and she suddenly had a childish urge to poke him, see if it’d rattle that impenetrable invisible armor. Then a better idea popped into mind and Kara stood and skated over to face him, hands on her hips.    
  
“I’ll make you a deal.”    
  
He waited, surveying her face with something Kara would call wary interest. That was good enough. She poked him in the chest, her finger pushing into the skin beneath his collarbone. “I will sit quietly and read a book on our next break,” she paused for effect and grinned at him, her finger trailing back and forth on his chest, “if you play hockey with me.”    
  
He frowned. “I don’t play hockey.”    
  
“C’mon, you’ll like it. You get to hit things.” Lee just kept shaking his head and Kara sighed dramatically, raised her hands in mock defeat, skating backwards a few feet. “Fine, I can understand you not wanting to get your ass beaten. I thought you could handle a little competition, but, I guess I was wrong. So, forget it.” She bent and picked up her hockey stick, fiddling with the tape at the handle and biting back a grin as she started counting silently in her head. She hadn’t even gotten to five when a strong hand reached over her shoulder and picked up another stick.    
  
She straightened and turned to find Lee practically standing on top of her. A smug look danced on his face and intense eyes beamed a challenge at her. Her gaze flicked down to his mouth as his tongue peeked out, swiping across his lips, and Kara felt the intense desire to follow it. Instead, she sunk teeth into her own bottom lip, as he spoke, slow and deliberate, the husky tones washing through her and down her spine. “I can handle anything you’ve got, Thrace. You’re on.”    
  
***    
  
Ten minutes later, the roar of the crowd was back, rushing in her ears as Kara scored her fifth goal in a row. Across from her Lee’s face was red, scowling, teeming with frustration and anger and all manner of messy emotions. It was kind of beautiful.    
  
“You want to know what your problem is?”    
  
“You mean other than you?” He didn’t look up, just kept skating slowly towards the goal, moving the stick rapidly from side to side as if he was afraid the puck would go skittering away from him at any second.    
  
Obligingly Kara dashed toward him, stealing the disc away with a quick slap and a flick of her wrist. She launched the puck over the line that stretched between the two silver thermoses for her sixth goal.    
  
“You’re overthinking it,” she called helpfully over her shoulder as she skated around and corralled the puck, sliding it back to Lee who was wiping sweat from his brow and still glowering at her. “You’re gripping the stick too hard and being too careful.”    
  
Kara glided up next to him and dropped her own stick. She reached down and pried his fingers loose around the handle and repositioned them a little higher up the taped hilt. “There, now don’t tighten up this time.” She kept a hand folded over his on the stick and skated behind him, circling her other arm around his waist and positioning his left hand under the right on the stick. “What are you doing?” Lee’s voice was sharp and surprised.    
  
“The Charleston, Lee.” Rolling her eyes, Kara covered both of his hands, squeezing lightly, and said, “Now just relax. Let yourself get used to the feel of the wood under your hands, okay?” His murmured assent came a beat late, but she felt his forearms tense under hers and Kara sighed. “Stop fighting it and just feel it, okay? Now skate.”    
  
He moved forward and she matched his stride, pushing the stick so it would slap the puck lightly. “Okay now rather than dragging the stick on the ice, lift it to the other side and hit it back.” He lifted the stick and tentatively hit the puck back in front of him. Kara tightened her hands around his, and lifted the stick to slap back down on the other side, and they picked up a little speed. “Good, that’s better. Now—”    
  
“I can’t concentrate with you breathing down my neck.” He growled suddenly, cutting her off. “Just let go. I can do it myself, okay?”    
  
Surprised at the sharp rebuff, Kara raised her hands, skating away. “Alright, fine, Mr. Knows-it-all.” Frustrated, she blew out a breath and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling embarrassed and angry suddenly. “I just thought I’d tried to help so you wouldn’t be completely humiliated by me wiping the rink with your ass. But please, by all means, show me your expert skills, Gretzky.”    
  
She decided to take pity on him and slowed to half speed, reaching out to block the shot as he sent the puck launching toward the goal zone. But somehow she was just a fraction too late, the puck winging the tip of her stick and skittering slightly off-center towards the thermoses. She couldn’t believe it. Kara’s eyes widened as she watched the disc sail past the line and behind her Lee let out a shout of joy, and she turned, shocked to see him pumping his fist enthusiastically. He skated up to her, a huge grin stretching all the way up to the thin skin crinkling around his eyes. The smile transformed his entire face, and Kara stared back, transfixed, her breath catching for a moment.    
  
“Now, what was that you were saying about humiliation and embarrassment?” He tilted his head, still beaming.    
  
“Beginner’s luck.” Kara sniffed, but there was no malice in it and she grinned back at him. “Better watch out Adama, your face might just freeze like that!”    
  
“Oh, shut up and let’s play,” he muttered, but the smile still lurked on his lips.  _Game on, Kara_  thought.    
  
She glided after the puck, easily picking it up and skating around to get back in shooting position. “Well, now that I know you’ve got such hidden talent, I’m gonna stop going easy on you. Just try and keep up.”    
  
He just shifted, smile turning dangerously smug, and beckoned her on with one hand. “Bring it, Thrace.”    
  
Lee put up a valiant effort. But despite scoring two more goals—once when he was quicker than anticipated and sent the puck careening between her blades, and another that Kara was pretty sure had been on accident—Lee was no match for her training and skills. Soon the score was 10-3 and his smile was long gone.    
  
Red-faced and sweaty, he skated forward, hands too high and tight on the stick again, Kara noted. His eyes were flicking back and forth from the puck to the goal line, telegraphing his shot like crazy. She shook her head and swept by him in a tight circle, her shoulder slamming into him even as her stick flicked out and sent the puck spinning into the zoned goal.    
  
“HEY! You cheated!” Lee shouted. “That’s not fair.”    
  
“It’s a shoulder check and it’s totally fair. Regulation even. This is ice hockey, Adama, not water ballet.”    
  
She watched him scowl again and figured at 11-3 she could be magnanimous. Kara slid the puck over to him. “Go ahead, try again. I promise not to check you this time.” She smirked. “Wouldn’t want to bruise that delicate ego.”    
  
“MY ego?! Are you kidding me?” Kara thought his eyes might just pop out of his skull as his voice climbed higher and higher. “God, you are insufferable.”    
  
“Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You might be a piss-poor hockey player but that’s okay.” She paused, raising an eyebrow, and shrugging nonchalantly. “Just…you know…don’t quit your day job.”    
  
Lee’s jaw dropped and he let out a magnificent grunt of frustration, as he suddenly hauled back then swung forward, wooden stick sliding under the puck at just the right angle to send it hurtling rapidly through the air…and headed directly towards Kara.    
  
Her last sight before she lost consciousness was Lee’s horrified face.    
  
***    
  
It didn’t break her nose—and thank god for that, Kara thought, since she’d already done that twice in her life and it wasn’t much fun—but it did leave her with a ringing headache and six stitches on her cheekbone.    
  
When the doctor dismissed her, Kara was almost disappointed. She’d been hopeful she’d have guilt trip material on Lee for months, but this was nothing. Sighing, she walked towards the doors to the waiting room, but just before she pushed through she heard his voice, pitched higher than usual and talking rapidly. Kara rose up on her toes and looked through the small square window at the top of the door. They were sitting in chairs facing her way, but Lee was staring into space as he talked and Roslin was flipping through a magazine seemingly absorbed. She sunk back down and pressed an ear to the door.    
  
“It’s not like her nose was perfect.” Pause. “She's the one who made the stupid bet in the first place.” Another pause. “She wanted me to play the game, so I played.” A definite whine creeping into the words this time, but Roslin didn’t respond and Kara heard him sigh heavily. “You know what? I don't even know why I'm explaining this to you anyway. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me how guilty I sound.”    
  
She grinned briefly at the word “guilty” then had to strain harder to hear Roslin’s placid response. “It’s not guilt.”    
  
“Right. Of course not. I have nothing to—”    
  
“It’s fear.”    
  
Kara imagined she could practically hear Lee’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s crazy. What do I have to be afraid of?”    
  
There was a pause and then she heard Roslin, calm as ever, answer, “Because. You’ve finally found yourself a  _partner_ , Lee.”    
  
She froze, a smile slowly forming, and strained even harder to catch his response. Only quick reflexes saved herself from spilling through the door and out onto the floor. Kara had just managed to right herself when she found the doctor standing over her and glowering.    
  
“Is there a problem, Ms. Thrace?”    
  
“Uh, no, no sir. But….” a fantastic idea occurred to her and she grinned, “maybe you could help me with something.” She confided her crazy scheme to him, turning on the charm when he started looking dubious.    
  
Five minutes later Kara was seated in a wheelchair, several layers of white bandages looped around most of her forehead and cheek as she tried not to grin. The doctor pushed her through to the waiting room and she could see out of a tiny gap in the gauze, just big enough to watch Lee’s face go even paler and his jaw drop in horror.    
  
“Oh my God, what—” his eyes flicked up to the doctor. “I thought you said it was only her nose!”    
  
But the doc just let go of the wheelchair and stepped away, mumbling, “She’s all yours…” Kara heard the door swish shut behind them a few seconds later, and she watched Lee just studying her face in open-mouthed horror. Kara summoned up a distressing moan and he leaned forward. “What is it? What’s wrong?”    
  
She groaned a little more, and watched his face fill with horror again, and Roslin looked concerned too. “Kara,” Lee breathed, “Are you okay?”    
  
His voice trembled slightly and Kara was surprised, but figured the joke had gone on long enough. She reached up to slowly hook her fingers into the layers of gauze and tugged it down one side of her face, her gaze meeting Lee’s uncomprehending one. “Toe pick!” she chirped.    
  
He blinked and his mouth fell open, something like relief sweeping across his face, before the rest of his good sense caught up with him and Lee started shaking his head. “You—Your—” he gaped at her, stumbling over the words before his face tightened grimly. “ _Not. Funny._ ”    
  
But next to him, Roslin had already started laughing—giggling like a schoolgirl in fact. Kara just smirked and tried not to wince as the motion pulled at the stitches in her cheek. “Really? ’Cause you thought it was pretty hilarious all those times  _you_  said it.”    
  
“You’re insane, you know that?”    
  
“Aw, a compliment. That’s sweet, Lee. You must really be feeling awful.”    
  
“Awful that my aim was so bad.” He grumbled, but the begrudging smile on his face took the sting out of the words.    
  
“Don’t worry.” She grinned cheerfully at him. “You can always try to maim me in the rematch.”    
  
“Rematch? Oh no. No way!” He groaned as Roslin placed a hand on both of their backs and steered them out the automatic doors to the parking lot. They bickered about it all the way back to the car, but Lee let her ride shotgun without an argument and didn’t even complain when she tuned the radio to the hard rock station.    
  
Staring out the window at the picturesque wooded hills, Kara thoughts turned to what she’d overheard Roslin say.  _A partner_ . She’d been on teams her whole life, but she’d never really had anyone she could call a partner before.    
  
Her eyes met Lee’s in the rearview mirror suddenly and he smiled, no reservation at all for once.    
  
Kara smiled back. Maybe she could get used to it.    


 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, getting used to her new life took some serious work. And the skating was the easy part. With ten years of ice hockey and three months of figure skating under her belt, Kara had mastered enough basic jumps, spins, and lifts to pass her USFS pairs qualifying tests with flying colors. But to seriously contend at the senior pairs competition level, they’d need to raise the bar on difficulty and artistry for the Sectionals that were a few months away. If they placed in Sectionals, then it would be on to Nationals, and if they placed there…well, that was their ticket to the big time.

They trained hard, spending more hours on the ice than most teams. After all, the majority of their rivals had been skating together for years, with the benefit of tight emotional as well as professional bonds. As they progressed into full routines, however, they developed an instinctive—uncanny, Roslin called it—ability to move in sync that lent their routines a fluidity and chemistry to rival some of their seasoned competitors. Even without looking, Kara soon found that if she concentrated while they skated separately, she could sense Lee’s presence on the ice and know just when to pull back or speed up, when to reach out to connect.

Off the ice, however, their rhythm was a bit more disjointed.

***

With each passing week, Roslin upped the difficulty level of their routine, substituting newer, tougher moves in for the basics. They practiced on the protective mats first and there was even a special harness to help with the overhead lifts. No more than three were allowed, but any serious team worth their salt did the max.

Lifts had turned out to be the hardest part for Kara. She wasn’t used to ceding control, and being hoisted in the air, completely at the mercy of someone else’s hands, was frustrating. Okay and maybe a little bit scary, too. But regardless of her misgivings, she’d gotten into the strange rig willingly enough and waited for instruction. When Roslin had indicated exactly where Lee should lift her from this time, her eyes had popped open wide.

“Wait, you want him to put his hands _where_?” She laughed and twisted her head to look at Lee, who was straight-faced and serious, of course, but she thought she saw a telltale flush creeping up his neck. 

Roslin was waiting expectantly, arms folded, and Kara just shrugged. “Alright, but just so you know Adama, I usually expect dinner first.”

“Guess I should consider myself lucky then,” Lee muttered, as his fingers gripped her inner thighs and he pushed her up, legs in a split position over his head. “I’m sure beer nuts and pork rinds really set a guy back.”

Kara blinked but she spread her arms wide and kept her chin high, as they rotated, Lee spinning slowly below her. As soon as Roslin motioned downwards and her feet touched the mat again, Kara was turning to face him, fingers already unbuckling the harness and shoving it aside. “So was I hearing things just now or did you actually make a joke?” She shook her head, her grin matching the one he now wore, and stepped closer, tapping his chest. “There might be hope for you yet, Leland.”

In addition to skating, their days consisted of copious physical training. Three times a week they did cardio and weight conditioning in the small gym behind the rink. Everything became a competition as they challenged each other to see who could do the most push-ups, crunches or leg lifts, facing off and battling until they were soaked in perspiration and breathing hard and feeling the burn (a burn that Kara insisted to herself had nothing at all to do with the way sweat-sheened biceps glistened under the lights in the gym). If she sometimes let her gaze get stuck on a bare chest, well hell, she was only human, right? Besides, sometimes she caught him looking too.

“Are you _ever_ planning to lose the jersey?”

Kara dropped the hem of her Bucks jersey, which she’d just been using to mop her sweaty face, and smirked at Lee. “That an invitation?”

“ _That's_ an observation.” He somehow managed to roll his eyes and wrinkle his nose simultaneously. “It’s not exactly standard practice gear.”

“Again with the regulation clothing?” she sighs. “Look, I’ve seen the crap that ice skaters wear, and I already told you that if anyone’s sporting one of those tutus on the ice, it’s gonna be you, Adama” Kara snickered and smoothed out the fabric of her shirt. “Besides, it’s my lucky jersey!”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but is it not the very same shirt you were wearing when you got hit and injured your eye, bringing a premature end to your hockey career?” 

She crossed her arms, chin jutting out slightly. “…Yes.”

Lee gave her a pointed look.

“Fine! But it was lucky until then!” She frowned, her hands fisted in the jersey now. “Besides, some of the stuff you wear?” Kara snorted. “You’d think you were the one with the vision loss.”

He glared at her. “At least I don’t wear the same thing every day. When’s the last time you even washed that thing?”

Well, okay, maybe she could stand to throw it in the laundry. She relaxed a little and decided to mess with him. “Is that what this is about? You have a problem with my hygiene, Adama?”

“You have hygiene?” Lee tilted his head quizzically.

She pursed her lips and made a face. “I clean up good sometimes, alright?”

“Mmm,” he said noncommittally, eyes sliding down her body in a decidedly nonplussed once over. “Well, you be sure to let me know when it’s one of those times.”

For that he got a shot in the face from her water battle, which naturally prompted retaliation. When the trainer came in ten minutes later, they were both soaking wet, the topic of their bickering momentarily forgotten amid his scolding for treating the gym like a “communal shower.”

Not long after, Roslin added ballet classes two mornings a week to their schedule. Kara was pretty sure those hours could be classified as a form of torture. The instructor, Helena, never smiled (Kara wondered if she even had teeth) and shouted constantly in her thick Russian accent, slapping at Kara’s arms and legs whenever she did a move wrong…which was frequently given her lack of natural grace. She could swear the woman must have been some sort of drill sergeant or army general in another life, who made her prisoners do _rond de jambs_ and _eleves_ and _plies_ till they dropped or spilled the beans about the secret warheads or something.

It was only the third class when the woman had taken a look at Kara and frowned, gesturing emphatically. “I cannot work with this.”

Kara glared in return. Maybe she wasn’t gonna give Baryshnikov a run for his tights or anything, but she wasn’t _that_ bad. She muttered as much and Helena shook her head. “No, no, this shirt. Is ridiculous.” Kara bristled, but the forthright instructor continued. “So big! It hides the lines of your body. I cannot tell if you are learning correctly. You must remove. This is not proper attire for ice skater.”

Her jaw dropped, then her gaze flicked to Lee’s smirking reflection in the mirror. “You so put her up to this!” she hissed quietly.

He caught her glaring and raised his hands, all innocence. “Hey, I had nothing to do with it.”

She narrowed her eyes. Kara wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. But then Helena slapped her arm, chastising her for wasting time and she reached down and ripped it up and off, leaving her in just her sports bra and spandex leggings. She tossed the shirt aside and nodded at Helena, as the woman clapped her hands and asked them to take fifth position at the bar.

Lee looked like he was trying awfully hard not to grin as their eyes met in the mirror. “Don’t say a word,” she hissed at him and he smiled innocently. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He was as good as his promise, kept his mouth shut, didn’t say anything at all for the rest of the session. But his eyes were more expressive. Helena wasn’t the only one who seemed to be checking out the “lines of her body.”

It almost made it worth it.

****

Life fell into a routine, days blurring into weeks and then months of training-eating-sleeping. They took no breaks, prepping on weekends, holidays, every day. Each precious moment before sectionals counted and Roslin was determined that they not waste a second. She and Kara even spent their dinners hashing out new adjustments to the routines or discussing the competition they’d face.

Kara and Lee, for their part, had settled into a mostly friendly camaraderie. Tension still flared up occasionally, especially when Lee got particularly obstinate about the rules, making Kara just as stubborn about breaking them, but generally their relationship was more of the teasing sibling rivalry variety now. Which was good because they were together pretty much every waking moment. It was sort of like having an exasperating twin brother.Sort of.

Lee got into the habit of joining them at the carriage house a few nights a week, ostensibly to talk strategy, but it didn’t take Kara long to notice there was a marked difference in the guy who sprawled on the overstuffed couch in their living room and the one she met in the rink every day. He smiled a lot more off the ice, for one thing, and he even moved differently, like his body carried less tension here.

Unfortunately, Kara seemed to be picking up every ounce of it that he’d discarded. She’d hardly been off the grounds in the past nine months, her social circle limited to just Lee, Roslin, and the occasional visit from Bill, and she was starting to go stir crazy. So when Roslin turned in early with a migraine one night, Kara sensed an opportunity.

“So what the hell do you do for kicks out here in the sticks, anyway?” she asked, turning to Lee.

“Kicks?” He repeated, barely looking up from the baseball game on the TV. Lee’s Yankees were trouncing her Red Sox’s asses anyway, so it’s not like they’d be missing much.

“I know it’s Old Moneyville around here and all, but people have to have some way to get their rocks off. There a bar around here, or a nightclub?” He finally turned his head, but stared at her blankly. “Monster truck rally? Prime spot for cow tipping? Something? Anything?”

“I-” he paused, wide-eyed and stumbling over the words, “there— I guess there’s a bar.” She was already rubbing her hands together in anticipation, but Lee muted the TV and kept talking. “But we can’t go there.”

“Why the hell not?”

“We’re training, Kara. We have to be up at six am and you want to go barhopping?”

“Not _hopping_ , one bar! And we won’t even stay long,” she retorted, even as he shook his head. Kara groaned in frustration. She’d practically been a saint since she got here, couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a drink (alcohol was definitely not on the low-carb, high-protein training diet). Tonight, she just wanted to forget about the fact that sectionals weren’t far away and she kept two-footing her axel occasionally and she hadn’t even learned the final lift yet

For one night, she didn’t want to think at all. She just wanted to feel like her old self.

“Let’s live a little!” She turned her best puppy dog eyes on Lee because she wasn’t above playing dirty. “So we’re a little tired in the morning? So what! We can sleep when we’re dead.”

He was shaking his head and already turning his attention back to the television, unmuting it. Kara sank a knee onto the couch cushion next to him and leaned over, snatching the remote out of his hand and turned the game off.

“Hey, I was watching that!”

“You can watch it at the bar, all kicked back with a nice cold brewski,” she cajoled. “C’mon. You have got to be just as sick of this place as I am. A little change of scenery will do us good, Lee. Recharge our batteries.” She nudged his leg with her knee.

“Coach wouldn’t like it.” But Kara could tell from the way the worry exclamation point between his eyes had shrunk down to a worry comma that he was actually considering it. She had him on the hook, now she just had to reel him in.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Kara scoffed, knowing Roslin would be dead to the world till morning. “Besides, we _are_ fully grown adults, you know. It’s not like we’re sneaking out of the house after curfew,” she paused, but Lee’s face remained blank, and she muttered “which you probably never did.”

Kara sighed. “Look, I’m going out and I’m finding something to do that does not involve metal blades for the next few hours.” She shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t call her bluff, considering she had no car to go anywhere with, and took a final chance. “I just thought you might want a break from all this too for a night. But hey, if you need your dad to sign your permission slip—”

“Fine.” He glared, even as he cut her off.” But only for a couple hours, Kara. I’m serious. We need to be ready for…”

But she was already beaming, tuning out the words.“Yup, yup,” she grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the door. “You’re gonna let me drive the Porsche, right?”

“Absolutely not!” Even Lee’s high-pitched objection couldn’t dampen her mood. A rush of anticipation flooded through her as they slipped out into the cool night air. The sense of freedom was immediate and intoxicating. She inhaled deeply and smiled.

Kara Thrace was about to get her groove back.

Smirking, she called over her shoulder to Lee as they headed down the path to the garage. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll even let you buy me beer nuts and pork rinds.”

***

Six hours later, cigar clenched between her teeth and a mug of the dive bar’s best draft (which was pretty damn horrible, but she wasn’t going to complain after six months of clean living) at her elbow, Kara sighed with contentment. Her plan had worked out perfectly.

Well, almost.

Her eyes flicked towards a glowering Lee Adama, who’d been sitting at the bar for the past hour looking increasingly pissed off.

The night had started poorly. Lee had driven through downtown Greenwich, pointing out one freshly painted, colonial-style storefront pub after another, all of which Kara had rejected on the grounds of being entirely too respectable. She’d made him drive on until, two towns over, they found a real dive that was much more to her liking. When they got inside, Kara had bellied up to the bar, ordered their best glass of whatever was on tap, and turned to a slightly disgruntled Lee who was eyeing the place like it was a pile of shit he’d accidentally planted a foot in.

“Order anything you like.” She figured he deserved it. “I’m buying.”

“Tonic water with a lime, please,” Lee’d said to the bartender and Kara had looked at him in confusion. “I don’t drink,” he explained.

“Watching your girlish figure?” She raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, I won’t tell Roslin.”

“I’ve never had a drink in my life.”

Kara’d felt her mouth literally drop open. “Are you serious? Never? So is this, like, another control freak thing, or—”

His jaw clenched. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Kara decided whatever his particular dysfunction on this issue was, she didn’t need to know. “OK, you heard the man, tonic and lime,” she said, turning back to the bartender, eyes rolling slightly.

In retrospect, Kara realized, that should’ve been the first sign that this night wasn’t exactly going to be the tension-free outing she’d envisioned. But Lee had actually seemed to be enjoying himself for a little while there. He’d turned out to be an excellent pool player and together they’d hustled a few preppy college kids out of a few months’ worth of Daddy’s allowance.He’d even been grinning when she’d congratulated him on taking the stick out for once and dragged him over to the card game in the corner, where Lee’s poker face had, just as she’d expected, come in real handy. But as the night wore on his carefully bland expression had turned more and more sour and his gaze kept flickering from the cards he held to his watch, until finally he’d folded and stomped off to the bar, where he now sat glowering at her.

With the alcohol and tobacco filtering pleasantly through her bloodstream, though, Kara was too relaxed to worry about what was keeping Adama’s shorts in a perennial bunch. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at her good-but-not-great hand of cards and bluffed her way into winning another pot at Texas Hold ‘Em.

She was so busy insulting the dealer—a ridiculously large man improbably nicknamed Tiny—that she didn’t notice at first that Lee had left his seat. It wasn’t until a hand clamped on her shoulder and she heard his voice hissing in her ear that she looked up to see the empty bar stool. “Kara, it’s almost one. We need to get the hell out of here.”

Shoving the rest of her winnings into her jeans, she lolled her head back to look up at him and said, “I’m on a hot streak here, Lee! Gimme five more minutes.”

“You said that an hour ago, and an hour before that.” His hand slid down her arm to grasp her elbow, fingers tightening. “Let’s go, Kara. _Now_.”

Frowning, she tried to jerk her elbow away, and nearly fell out of her chair. Unfortunately, she fell _into_ Tiny, and her half-full mug of beer promptly became an empty mug of beer.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Tiny got to his feet, grabbing Kara’s other arm, and for a second she felt like the rope in a tug of war contest. So she reared back, elbowing Lee in the chest in the process, and when he let go, she drove forward, sinking her fist into Tiny’s gut and he went down like a pile of bricks. She backed towards the door, passing a wheezing Lee, who was bent over rubbing at his clavicle and fisted her hand in the back of his polo shirt, tugging him with her. “Nurse your wounds later! It’s time to motor, Leland.”

They stumbled out the door, running through the parking lot and tumbling into the car and Lee pulled away with a squeal of the tires. Kara rolled her window down and shouted a big barrel of a laugh into the wind whipping by the car. After a minute, she settled back into her seat, smiling, adrenaline still making her blood buzz pleasantly. “So that was fun, huh?”

“Are you completely insane?!” She looked over to see Lee, hands clenched on the wheel, face furious, and she wondered what the hell his problem was now. He proceeded to tell her without even any prompting. “You drag me to this disgusting hellhole in the middle of nowhere, refuse to leave until you’ve cleaned out all the locals, then decide to try to K.O. a guy three times your size? Are you really so drunk that seemed like a good idea or have you just lost your goddamned mind?”

She grimaced. “Please, that guy was an oaf. All fat, no muscle tone. Bet he thinks weight lifting is when he picks up another double quarter-pounder and shovels it in. He went down easier than—”

 _“He could’ve hurt you.”_

Kara froze at the low, serious tone gritted out between clenched teeth. She’d expected a lecture on responsibility or rule-breaking, but not this. Not actual concern that she could’ve gotten hurt. It was shocking…and sort of sweet, really. Her eyes lifted to his, but Lee was looking straight ahead, staring at the dark country road ahead of them like it might rise up like a snake and bite them at any minute.

“Lee—”

But he cut her off again, ranting. “He could’ve laid you out flat. And what if you’d gotten injured, Kara? Broke a leg or a hand in some stupid fucking bar fight over nothing at all?” Her eyebrows raised at the obscenity. She’d never heard Lee utter so much as an “asshole” or “shit.” He was seriously worked up over this.

“Lee, that was nothing, okay? Trust me, I’ve been in bar fights before, and that didn’t even qualify.” He didn’t answer, just clenched his jaw as he stared out the windshield. Kara felt her temper starting to rise. “I’m a big girl, alright? I can take care of myself.” 

“God, is that all you ever think about? Yourself?” He snapped and Kara flinched. “Maybe you got lucky this time, but did you even stop to think about the consequences of what _might_ have happened? What if you’d busted your hand punching that moron? How the hell would you be able to skate? We’d never be able to compete!”

Shame and anger rushed through her. “Right. Skating. Of course. Because God forbid that, for a few fucking hours, I didn’t completely obsess over how to land a goddamn triple axel.” Her voice was tight with frustration. “Maybe I don’t live and breathe the damn sport the way you do, but at least I know how the hell to enjoy myself instead of acting like someone programmed me to skate like some – some—” she paused groping for the word, “fucking robot!”

Lee’s profile turned to stone, his jaw tightening and clenching, and Kara felt a twinge of remorse suddenly. “Well, better that than a washed-up jock who pathetically fixates on reliving her glory days!” Any lingering regret she felt was immediately wiped away and replaced with fury, but Lee wasn’t done. “Every third word out of your mouth at that table tonight was ‘hockey’. I’m surprised you can even remember that a triple axel isn’t something that belongs on your car. If we even manage to get on the podium at sectionals, it’ll be a damn miracle at this point.”

That one stung. Her triple was still a little wobbly on occasion, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Indignation and frustration rolled through her and she exploded. “I have been  _busting my ass_ for the past nine months, Adama! What the hell do you want from me?” 

They rolled into the garage and Lee switched off the engine just as the last words escaped Kara’s lips. The ensuing silence sounded loud and awful, but she was too pissed to even think about apologizing. She waited for Lee to say something, but he just sat staring down at his lap, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. Kara rolled her eyes and already had a hand on the door handle when Lee finally spoke, his tone quieter now though still urgent.

“What I want from you is to know that this isn’t some joke, Kara. You’ve been here for nine months, yes, but this has been my whole life since I was six years old.” He paused and turned towards her, intense eyes searching. “I can’t take this lightly, and I need to know that you’re not either. That you’re not going to quit on me when it gets harder, that you’re not just waiting till something better comes along and you can walk away.” 

He stopped and Kara watched his face ripple in a way that struck her as unspeakably sad. “This is—” he paused again and in the dim light from the garage dome, she saw his Adam’s Apple bob hard, head ducking for a split-second, before he raised it again, eyes boring into her, and finished his thought in an impossibly low baritone, " _you are_ —my last chance."

Kara just stared back at him, mouth going dry, unsure of what the hell she was supposed to say to all of that. The silence just stretched and she felt nervous suddenly, hyperaware of the need in his eyes and the way he’d just placed a two-ton weight on her shoulders. Kara opened her mouth and out tumbled the first thing that popped into her head. “Guess you really are screwed then, huh?”

His mouth tightened and he shifted towards the door and Kara felt like a heel. She reached over and grabbed his knee. “Wait, Lee, wait, I’m…I’m sorry. Reflex.” 

He frowned and stilled, but he didn’t turn back towards her and Kara sighed. “I _am_ serious about this. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I want to win. I…I need to win.” As she said the words, she knew they were true. She wanted to stand on that podium, wear that gold medal like she’d dreamed about finally. Lee must have heard the conviction in her words, because he turned his head, looking at her over his shoulder now with a look of wary consideration, and Kara locked eyes with him. 

“I won’t quit on you. You’re my last chance too.”

They stayed like that just staring for what felt like forever, then finally Lee just nodded, and without another word, climbed out of the car.   

Unsettled, but unsure what to do about it, Kara followed suit. They left the garage, said a muted goodnight where the path split between the main house and the carriage house, and went their separate ways. Slipping into her room as quietly as possible and sinking into bed, Kara was well aware she had but a few hours of potential shuteye before she’d have to drag her sorry ass out of bed, but she wasn’t tired at all. Instead her mind kept replaying their argument.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she had been thinking only of herself. Kara had learned early not to expect things from other people—not even the things you had a right to reasonably expect. You had to look out for yourself first and foremost.

The look on Lee’s face, though, had been so… _desperate_. She wasn’t used to being needed—not like that anyway. Sure, her hockey team had depended on her scoring to win, but what Lee had said about her being his last chance—that had felt entirely different. _Personal_.

But she’d meant what she’d said too. Kara’d had the Gold almost in her grasp at the last Games, and now, despite all the odds, she had a second chance. A last chance. And she wasn’t going to waste it.

No, she was going to seize it. No more field trips, no more fighting. From now on, she was going to do everything possible to make sure they made it all the way to the top of that Olympic podium.

 _Whatever it takes_ , Kara vowed, as she finally drifted off to sleep.

***

She awoke to an alarm set an hour earlier than usual and rolled out of bed, reaching for her gear but pausing suddenly as she started to tug on her away game jersey.

Kara studied the well-worn material, the familiar curve of the C designating her Captain status. Some of the fabric was starting to crack and peel now. But it was still her name in those bright bold letters on the back. The same name that had lit up the scoreboards at her college games, the name that thousands of people had chanted those last fateful moments in Calgary. This wasn’t just any shirt; it was… _her past_.

Past meaning over. Finito. Kaput.

Kara heaved a deep sigh, wondering exactly when the damned thing had changed from lucky charm to security blanket. Teeth worrying her lower lip, she considered it for another moment and then tossed it aside, opting instead for a tank and a zippered fleece hoodie. 

Today would be a new start.  

When she got to the rink, Lee was already there—of course—looking incredibly well-rested somehow—and his cheery “Good Morning” prompted a grunt in response from Kara. But then he held out a styrofoam cup to her and she couldn’t help gaping a little at the familiar green logo on its side. The nearest Starbucks was a 15-minute ride and there were several closer, though less superior, coffee shops and bakeries on the way. She couldn’t stop the smile from curving her lips as she took the cup. Kara sipped the piping hot, black venti coffee with three sugars (her favorite) not even caring that it was scorching her tongue, and thought maybe it was Lee’s idea of a new start too. 

“I figured you might appreciate the caffeine fix this morning.” 

“Thanks.” She set the cup down, dropped her bag and lifted her skates out of the small storage cube in front of the bench, tugging them on and lacing up. 

“Nice shirt.”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Thought it was time for a change.” Kara smirked as she brushed past him onto the ice. “Wouldn’t want anyone to bitch about my hygiene, after all.” 

Pleased to get the last word, she took off, gliding down the rink. They skated practice laps and then Roslin called them to center ice. “Alright, since we all had an early night last night,” Roslin’s eyebrow lifted as if daring them to correct her and Kara thought, _Damn, busted_ , but the coach continued on smoothly, “I thought today you were ready for a challenge. Let’s work on the split triple twist.”

They’d been upgrading their programs all along, inserting new, harder moves and switching out easier ones as Kara learned new techniques. The split triple lift was one of the most difficult and they’d never done it on the ice before, just on practice mats. Usually she didn’t think twice about new moves, but this one was several degrees of difficulty harder than their others. Everything had to be timed perfectly to fit in all three revolutions and the descent and it all happened so fast. If either of them was less than completely secure in their movements, one or both of them could get hurt. In fact, she’d nearly elbowed Lee in the face twice while they’d practiced it previously. Her gaze flicked downwards and her palms suddenly felt clammy.

“Kara? Ready?”

She looked up to find both Roslin and Lee watching her. “Right. Yes.” But somehow she couldn’t seem to make her skates move.

“What’s the problem?” he asked. “It’s just another lift.”

“Easy for you to say,” she growled. “You’re not the one who’s getting tossed in the air like a rag doll.”

Lee frowned and skated closer to face her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

She could still hear his voice from the car, totally frustrated, taunting her about the triple axel and how they basically didn’t have a shot in hell of medaling. She wondered suddenly if all these months of training had just been a waste of time. Bitter, she choked out, “Maybe I’m just trying to figure out if I should call my _mechanic_ to get some tips.”

He cringed and shifted slightly, turning so his back faced Roslin and lowering his voice, “This is about the crack I made last night? Look, Kara, in the heat of the moment, we both said really stupid things. But this is our job. What happens off the ice, stays off the ice.” He leaned closer, the same serious look he’d worn in the garage the night before on his face. “We both said we’re in this to win, remember?”

Kara just looked at him, couldn’t speak, the doubt still making her stomach roil. Lee reached down and grabbed her hands.

“We have to have this, Kara. Trust.” He squeezed her hands. “Your word, my word. We’ll never make it without it.” His face was serious and his eyes locked onto hers. “I promise you: I won’t let you fall.”

Kara stared back at him, the doubt fading at the earnestness of the words. She believed him. And despite everything, she did trust him. They may have said some awful things, but they’d made promises too. She’d promised not to quit on him. She couldn’t go back on it. Kara swallowed hard and nodded once, quick, so she couldn’t change her mind.

“Let’s do it.”

He nodded too and they pushed off, circling the ice backwards and picking up momentum. Then suddenly his hands were clutching her hips and Kara kicked the toe pick into the ice to vault upwards as he lifted her and then she was spinning, spinning, spinning. Three full revolutions and down and Lee was there, as promised, strong hands grasping her waist and setting her down on the outside edge of her blade.

“Beautiful,” Roslin called delightedly, clapping her hands from the other side of the ice. “Very nice. Again.”

Relieved and giddy, Kara hooted and pivoted, taking the lead as they circled the rink to build up momentum for another pass, her left arm extended for Lee’s grip. His hand locked around hers, and he squeezed her fingers, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. Kara smiled, more pleased by the gesture than she should have been. She supposed it was the figure skating equivalent of a pat on the ass after a goal.

Kara realized with surprise that landing a jump cleanly or completing a lift gave her the same high now as stealing a puck or making a point. She’d never found anything that could make her feel that kind of excitement before.

It wasn’t as aggressive or quite so adrenaline-fuelled as hockey, of course. But this—Kara thought as they aligned themselves and he launched her into another twist—definitely had its advantages. If she’d compared them a month ago, maybe even a week ago, Kara wasn’t sure figure skating would have come out on top. But as Lee caught her again, grinning with success and more than a little pride, she was convinced.

A partner to skate with sure as hell trumped a wooden stick.

***

The remaining time passed in a blur as they honed their short and free skate programs for competition. Their skating was clean, strong. But would it be enough to win? Roslin thought so. The difficulty level was high, daringly so for a team that had only been skating together for less than a year. But the coach was confident they could do it, insisting they had a strength and a certain flair, a chemistry that even the more established teams couldn’t match.

Kara believed her, or wanted to anyway, but doubts plagued her enough to rouse her out of bed and creep down to the rink the night before they left for sectionals. She hadn’t been able to sleep, just tossing and turning, running the routine through in her head over and over.

Her footwork and arm positioning were still weak points, so Kara stood at the barre running through the exercises Helena had taught them. She was so focused on what she was doing that her surroundings faded. The quiet in the small room was absolute and she jumped nearly a foot in the air when Lee’s voice suddenly came out of the darkness behind her.

“Kara?” He stepped through the entry from the small hallway leading off the rink, frowning. “What are you doing here? It’s almost midnight.”

“Knitting a sweater.” As if it wasn’t obvious. “What are _you_ doing here?” She couldn’t keep the slight hint of irritation out of her voice.

“I saw the lights on from my window.” He moved closer, coming into the room and up behind her as he studied her motions in the mirror. “You’re practicing now?”

She shrugged. “You did want me to take it seriously, right?” Her tone was sharper than it should’ve been and Kara took a deep breath, then turned her attention back to the barre, lifting her leg and stretching an arm over her head. She waited for him to leave, but Lee just stood behind her, arms crossed and watching her, his brow wrinkling.“What?!”

He shot her an exasperated look but stepped closer, one hand closing around her raised forearm, the other automatically reaching around to a lift position, palm flat against her lower abdomen. “Try it like this,” he said, voice low, warm breath ghosting against her ear as he repositioned her arm.

Unexpectedly, Kara felt a flare of heat race through her, which was strange. They touched each other all the time, sometimes in rather… _familiar_ places. It was unavoidable when they were working. But this relatively simple grasp of his fingers around her forearm felt different somehow. Maybe it was because they were alone, without Roslin’s unstinting gaze following them, or maybe because it was so quiet she could hear his breathing, but this felt intimate in a way that added a whole new layer of turbulence to her already churning stomach and she couldn’t stop herself from stiffening up.

“You’re incredibly tense.” His hands moved, thankfully, and Kara nearly sighed with relief, but then they resettled on her back, his fingers curling over her shoulders and strong thumbs digging into the muscles above her shoulder blades. “Gotta admit I never pegged you for the nervous type.”

“Yeah, well, you’d be wrong.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her in the mirror.

“Let’s just say I used to have two helmets. One for the game and one for before.” Lee frowned in confusion, and she rolled her eyes and pantomimed puking. He grimaced but his grip softened, thumbs stroking gently over her skin now, and it felt entirely too good.

She shook him off and turned, hands fisting on her hips as she stared at him, her stomach clenching as her fears tumbled out. “What if I screw it up? I’m- I’m not sure about the star lift,” she blurted. “I almost overbalanced the last time we did it.”

Nonplussed, he held out his left hand. “Show me.”

She swallowed and laced her right hand into his, her left gripping his right shoulder. Lee’s right hand curved against her hip. “Ready, on three” he said, counting softly. She leaned into him and lifted as he bent then pushed her into the air over his head, arm straightening into a locked position. He released her hand and Kara raised it over her head, lifting her other hand from his shoulder as she spread her limbs into the shape of a star.They held the position for ten seconds, strong and steady, before he set her down again. “See? That was perfect, Kara.”

“Maybe, but my footwork is still shaky. And what if I flub the triple?”

He rolled his eyes and she thought about slugging him, but then he said, “We’ll go through it, okay? A full skate, till you feel like you’ve got it.”

“Yeah?” Kara was surprised. She’d expected a lecture about getting a good night’s sleep or not overpracticing.

“Come on,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the dance studio back to the cubes where they stashed their skates. They laced up and ran through both the short and long programs, three times each. Death spirals, sit spins, throws, Bielmanns, footwork, Lasso lift—It all came out clean, stronger on each succeeding pass than the one before, and at the end, they collapsed to the ice, exhausted but wearing matching grins.

“That triple axel…” Lee panted and Kara waited, breath held, “was a hell of a piece of skating. Couldn’t have done better myself.”

She laughed; relief and renewed confidence swept through her. The ice felt cool against her cheek and neck as she turned her face to Lee, smirking. “I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t think I heard you correctly.You better say it again.”

He just chuckled. “Oh, here we go, there’ll be no living with you now. One tiny compliment and it goes right to your head.”

Kara flung an arm out weakly and it bounced off Lee’s stomach, making him hiss a little. She didn’t have the energy to do anything more though and suddenly a loud gurgling noise cut the air.

“Okay, maybe it went to your stomach,” he laughed.

“Ugh, this rabbit food diet Roslin’s got us on is killing me,” she groaned. “It’s gotten to the point where I’ve been dreaming about chocolate cake every night.”

“Yeah, well, speaking of dreaming, we’d better get our asses in the sack before the coach turns _us_ into rabbit food.” He rolled over and got to his feet, then reached a hand down to pull Kara up. “C’mon. When we win sectionals, I’ll buy you the biggest piece of chocolate cake Philadelphia has to offer.”

She got to her feet, but she didn’t release his hand. Kara met his eyes, lips quirking with amusement. “ _When_ we win?” No ifs? No miracles?

“When.” He repeated firmly, a wry grin curving his lips.

Kara smiled, shaking the hand she was still holding. “Deal.”


	4. Chapter 4

The light glinted brightly off the shining medal.

Kara stared at the new addition to the wall of Bill’s study. It might not be gold, but their third place win at Sectionals had secured them a spot at Nationals. And if they placed in the top three teams there, they’d be going to the Olympics.

Suddenly, the music outside the door surged again. Kara had ducked in here seeking a brief reprieve from the elegantly dressed crowd dining on champagne and canapés. It wasn’t exactly her kind of shindig, but she hadn’t been able to skip out on the celebration considering she was one of the guests of honor.

Her eyes flicked back again to the twin to the bronze disc back on her dresser. She’d worn it nonstop since the ceremony, Lee teasing her the entire time. The only reason she hadn’t put it on tonight was because Laura, who’d insisted on putting her “look” together, had forbidden it, threatening to make her do twice as many death spirals—her least favorite move—when they came back from vacation next week. 

Kara sighed with pleasure. An entire week off. She was headed home, and somewhat surprised to realize how excited she was to see everyone again. Karl especially. God, she missed the big lug. This would be their last break for a while too. When they got back they’d be training nonstop, working right through the holidays and all the way up to Nationals at the end of January.

She stole another long look at the medal, imagining gold—Olympic gold—in its place for a minute, and then as she turned to go, her eye stuttered on a framed picture nearby. A little boy, probably no older than seven or eight—unmistakably Lee from the eyes—was beaming up at a beautiful woman who had her arms wrapped around him.

“Kara?”

She turned to the familiar voice at the door, where the very much grown-up Lee stood in a tuxedo. “Hey,” Kara grinned, unable to stop her eyes from doing an appreciative once over, before turning back to the photo on the wall. “I was just looking at the pictures.  That’s your mom, right? Wow, she was a knockout.”

No response, so she turned again, and found him staring at her, looking confused. “Lee?”

“Knockout.” He repeated it softly, eyes wide, but he wasn’t looking at the picture.

Kara smiled, feeling pleased and embarrassed somehow, all at once. She rolled her eyes. “Not really my usual speed, is it?” She fidgeted a little, smoothing her hands down the blue chiffon dress with trailing scarfs at the wrist and neck. “Laura insisted. She actually made me go shopping with her.” She made a face and Lee laughed at that.

“I bet she regretted every second of it.” He crossed the room to her. “Oh, you, uh, forgot a—there’s a hook open at the top.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, reaching back, but her fingers couldn’t quite grasp it. “See? You never have this problem with hockey jerseys. They’re very low maintenance.” She grunted as she tried to stretch a little further to reach it.

“Allow me,” Lee said, adding with a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Before you strain something.”

Kara dropped her arm and hesitated for a second, feeling uncharacteristically awkward, then decided she was being ridiculous. Her in a dress was a once in a lifetime occurrence; that look in his eyes had been nothing more than shock. She turned around and felt Lee’s hands, slow and careful against her shoulders, as he slid one of the gauzy sashes out of the way.

“Your hair got long,” he murmured. “I didn’t notice. You always have it up in practice.”

His palm brushed against her bare back and Kara tried not to shiver. “Yeah, it’s a pain. Always getting tangled and it takes twice as long in the shower. I don’t know why I haven’t cut it yet. Although Roslin, uh, Laura, I mean—God, it’s weird to call her that but she insisted—threatened me with double sit spins if I—and I quote—so much as touch a hair on my head. She’s very big on the threats lately.”

Kara bit her lip, clamping her mouth shut to prevent any more babble from spilling out. Why the hell wasn’t he fin—

“All set.” He reached around and pulled the scarf back into place, fingertips tracing down her neck lightly, and Kara swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sensation. She made a mental note. First order of business when she got home? Get laid.

She took a deep breath and turned around. Lee was staring, his head tilted slightly, and that look on his face again for a second, the dazed and confused one. “You were right, by the way,” he said.

Kara raised an eyebrow.

“You clean up pretty good.” He smiled at her and she smiled back, and for a second, Kara forgot about the party, forgot about medals, forgot about everything except Lee in his tux, the way his lips curved and his eyes crinkled at the edges when he really smiled. 

She wasn’t sure how much time passed before he broke the gaze, clearing his throat and turning to face the wall where the medal hung.

“I’m surprised he hung it up here, considering it’s not gold.” He chuckled, but it was a short, bitter sound. “Bill Adama usually demands nothing less than perfection.”

Uncomfortable, Kara frowned and shrugged a shoulder. “Your old man’s a tough customer.”

“And yet the two of you seem to get along swimmingly.” Lee raised a brow. “Tell me, what is it you talk about at those little cigar clubhouse meetings you have? Does he spend the whole time enumerating all the ways I haven’t lived up to his expectations?”

A few times Bill had invited her to the main house when he’d gotten some choice Cubans. She had no idea that Lee even knew, less that it bothered him. “No. Those are just…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say. “We talk hockey sometimes.”

“Hockey? Really?” he looked incredulous. “C’mon Kara, you expect me to believe that he doesn’t bend your ear with all the ways I’ve failed him?”

She frowned. “No! Lee, he doesn’t—”

His eyes narrowed, as he cut her off. “Has he ever mentioned me at all?”

She licked her lips, unsure if the truth or a lie would suit her better, but Lee was too quick and answered for her. “He hasn’t.”

Kara watched emotion ripple over his face quickly before it tightened into an unreadable mask again. “Look, your dad is… He’s strict and he has high standards, but I think he just wants the best for you, you know? That’s how parents are.”

His jaw unclenched a little, face softening. “Is your Dad that way?”

Kara blinked, surprised at the change in direction. “I don’t know. He left when I was a baby. I can barely remember him.” A distant song, like a lullaby, floated fleetingly through her head but disappeared before it could stick.

“Your mom then? Was she a perfectionist?”

“You could say that,” Kara said, voice wry and her gaze went vacant as she recollected her early childhood. “I got my slapshot from her.”

“She was a hockey player?” Lee asked, in surprise.

Kara shook her head, refusing to think about the broken bones and the doctor visits. “Not quite.”

It took Lee a moment to get it, but then she saw his eyes widen slightly, Kara turned away, not wanting to see the pity she knew would be in his eyes. Mentally she kicked herself for opening the door to that one. She didn’t know why she’d said anything at all. Aside from Karl and his family, she hadn’t really told anyone about her mother before. It was a long time ago.

Kara cleared her throat noisily and reached for distraction, pointed to the frame on the wall she’d been looking at earlier. “Your mom was really pretty.”

“She was a show skater.” His response was slow and when Kara looked back over her shoulder, she saw his brow was creased and wondered what that was about.

“You look happy here,” she smiled, a question in it, as she traced the face of the boy in the photo with her finger.

Lee’s response was slow again and quiet. “We were.”

“When did she die?”

“She didn’t.”

Kara turned, surprised and a little embarrassed. “Oh. I just assumed…”

“She  left us when I was a kid.” Cold, clipped syllables ground out in a staccato fashion. “Might as well be dead, as far as I’m concerned.”

He turned away, fists clenched at his sides, and Kara reached out impulsively, touching a hand to his back. “Lee—” But he tensed up and whirled around, cutting her off. “We should get back to the party. No doubt Dad has more cheeks for us to kiss.”

Taking the easy shot at diffusing the tension, she raised an eyebrow and smirked a little. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

He caught her entendre and shook his head, but he huffed a small laugh as he held the door open at least. Relieved, Kara walked out into the noisy din of the grand foyer, Lee’s hand warm on her lower back as he propelled her in front of him. She’d just lifted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, when a high bright tone rung out nearby.

“Lee!”

“Oh!” Lee said, sounding flustered. “Gianne!”

His hand immediately dropped away and Kara turned, her ears perking up. So, this was the long-lost girlfriend. He hadn’t even mentioned she’d be here. Her eyes swept over the woman: tall, beautiful, thin, looked like she was made of money. Predictable.

She sipped her champagne as Lee turned and introduced them.

“So, you’re the secret weapon?” Gianne smiled, looking for all the world like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “Leland, you didn’t warn me about how pretty she is!”

Kara felt her hackles rise at the patronizing tone, even as she met Gianne’s blithe grin with a bright smile of her own. “Seems _Leland_ ’s not very good at warning people about a lot of things.”

Lee at least had the good grace to color slightly at that. Kara smiled and turned back to the girlfriend, making an attempt at politeness. “We meet at last. I thought maybe he was making you up.” She vaguely recalled Lee mentioning Gianne coming to town once or twice, but the last time had to be at least…God, four months ago now. Kara got her bikini line waxed more often than that. And she hated getting a bikini wax.  “Guess the Old Man doesn’t give you a lot of time off for good behavior, huh?”

Her eyes widened. “Old man?”

Lee coughed. “That’s Kara’s charming way of referring to my Dad.”

“Oh,” she said, perfectly plucked eyebrows raising. “Oh, no, Mr. Adama is very accommodating. I just,” she paused, blushing prettily, “I guess I’m a bit of a workaholic. I’m afraid I’m not able to get away very often, and of course, Leland is tied up here with all this extra training.”

“Must be rough, the long-distance thing,” she said mildly. Lee was eyeing her warily, as if he was expecting some kind of crack about it, but Kara just took a sip of champagne.

“It was difficult at first,” Gianne nodded, “but after the first year, we learned to adjust.” First year? How long had they been together? Her gaze skipped to Lee, who seemed to be studying his shoes with great interest. “But we talk on the phone nearly every night, which is just as good really.”

Kara raised a brow, but took another sip of champagne. Was this chick serious? Phone calls and visits every four months were the crappy aftermath of a summer camp romance, not a years-long adult relationship. Even the best phone sex couldn’t come close to the real thing. Cripes, it was like being vegetarian when you could be eating steak.

“Congratulations on your win, by the way,” Gianne offered, distracting her. ”You must be so pleased! I know Leland was very relieved.”

Lee’s eyes widened a little and he interjected, “Not that relieved!” He turned towards Kara. “I mean, relieved but…pleased! I knew you— _we_  could do it.”

“Mmm,” Kara said, as she sipped more champagne to avoid saying anything she might regret.

“You know, Lee’s had a lot of skating partners over the last few years,” Gianne said, a manicured hand landing on her boyfriend’s arm, bright fingernails shining against the dark jacket. “But you seem… different.”

“Well, I probably have a few less teeth than the others.” A fake smile stretched her lips and she thought she heard Lee snort then cover it with a cough, but she kept her eyes on Gianne.

“Hockey is such a brutal sport.” The delicate blonde shook her head, tongue clicking with distaste. “I’m sure skating is a nice change. It must be so much easier.”

“Easier?” Kara looked at Lee in confusion. “Are you serious?” Did his girlfriend even have a clue what went into their training?

“Gianne, you know we work very hard—”

She cut off Lee’s patient tones with a wave of her hand. “Yes, of course, darling. I just meant, you know, it’s a bit more…feminine.”

Kara bit her lip and tried not to laugh. “You know, you’re right. I keep trying to tell Lee that he should wear the tutu, but he just keeps resisting.” She shook her head in mock confusion.

Lee was giving her the “don’t push it, Kara” look that had become quite familiar throughout the past few months and she smirked and figured she could give him a break.

Before she could make more small talk, a white-gloved waiter swept into view with a tray of hors d’oeurves and Kara scooped up two of the little puff pastries, immediately popping one into her mouth. It’d been hours since she had lunch and she was starving. As she chewed, the waiter offered the tray around. Gianne declined politely, saying “Oh no, thank you, we don’t eat—” just as Lee picked up one of the pastries and bit into it.  

Kara bit back a chuckle at his girlfriend’s aghast expression as she watched him. “It’s okay. Roslin’s letting us lay off the rabbit food for the week,” she informed Gianne. “And that’s not going to make much difference after the way he plowed through  _my_  chocolate cake yesterday.” She grinned, eyes dancing as she looked at Lee. “ _And_  ate all the whipped cream.”

“I did not!” Lee said, outraged, swallowing even as he argued. “I divided it exactly in half.”

“Looked more like three quarters to me,” Kara said. “And besides, I distinctly recall  _someone_  promising me the biggest piece of chocolate cake Philly had to offer. There was no talk of sharing.”

“That thing was the size of a hubcap, Kara. There is no way anyone could finish that alone.” He finished the appetizer and crossed his arms, leaning closer to her with a smug, triumphant grin. “Not even you.” 

“Speak for yourself, Lee,” Kara said with a shrug, grinning into his face. “I have a  _very_  healthy appetite.”

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, holding her challenging gaze for a few seconds, and Gianne suddenly cleared her throat loudly. Kara jerked a little, having forgot the woman was even there and by the look on Lee’s face, so had he.

“Uh, anyway, you should try one. They’re really good. They have little beef tips inside them or something.” Kara crammed the second pastry into her mouth and swallowed almost without chewing.

A faint expression of distaste flickered in Gianne’s face. “I’m a vegetarian.”

Kara’s eyes widened, and laughter burbled up in her throat, which she tried to cover by coughing…which made her  _actually_  start coughing.  Lee pounded her back, none too gently, murmuring that maybe she should take it easy, but Kara waved him off and drained the rest of her drink to clear her throat.

The trio stood in awkward silence for a moment and Kara racked her brain for a new topic. She grabbed a new glass of champagne from a passing tray. “So, are you guys staying here or going away for the break? I can’t believe we have a whole week off.”

“We’ll be staying here,” Gianne answered, just as Lee said, “We might go into Manhattan for a few days.”

They turned to each other with surprised looks. “I have a few conference calls already scheduled,” Gianne said, her glossy lips turning into a pout. “I did mention I’d have to work, Leland.”

“It’s fine,” he answered, but Kara watched Lee’s jaw tighten and knew it wasn’t. Who worked on vacation—especially the first time you’d seen your boyfriend in months? If that didn’t call for shutting off the cell phone and staying in bed for days on end, she didn’t know what did.  

“There’s a special Kandinsky exhibit at the Guggenheim starting Tuesday,” he said, staring at Gianne. “I just thought you’d enjoy it.”

His girlfriend just frowned. “That’s very thoughtful, darling, but if I want that junior partnership, I just can’t spend time sightseeing.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Surely you understand?”

Lee only nodded stiffly and another awkward silence fell.

“Uh, I really like Kandinsky,” Kara piped up, as both sets of eyes turned to her. “He’s got this one painting that…” she paused, trying to find the words to adequately describe not just the content of the painting but the way it made her feel. “Well, it has all these spheres, right? Bright colors, all overlapping, kind of messy even, and there’s nothing else on the canvas, just these outlines, but… I don’t know, somehow it’s got this… _depth_  to it,” she said.

“ _Several Circles._ ” Lee said immediately, sporting a surprised grin. “That’s – That’s one of my favorites, actually.”

She smiled at him. “It sounds weird, but it always reminds me of space, a little bit. Like how small our lives are compared to how vast the universe is, you know? It’s all about possibility, like maybe there’s something more out there, some kind of… grand plan or something.” Her eyes had fluttered shut as she talked, picturing the painting, and when Kara opened them, she found two wide sets of eyes scrutinizing her. She shrugged a shoulder, uncomfortable suddenly. “It’s really simple, but it’s pretty cool.”

“So, you know art, Kara?” Shock and disbelief were written all over Lee’s face.    

“Nah, not really.” She shook her head. “Used to cut class a lot when I was a kid, take the T into Boston and hang out at the museums. Admission was free and they stayed open pretty late.” Lee’s face changed as she said the last few words and Kara felt a stab of frustration. She never should have made that dumb crack about her mom’s slapshot. She didn’t need his pity.

“Anyway, you should try to go,” she said, turning away from the look in his eyes to face Gianne. “I mean, you can’t spend the  _whole_ week working. And we probably won’t get another break before Nationals.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure it sounds silly to a stranger,” Gianne said, her face slightly harder and her voice several degrees cooler now, “but, thankfully, Leland understands my determination to succeed.” She threaded an arm through the crook of his elbow, squeezing tightly with those red-tipped fingers. “That’s why we’re so well suited. We want the same things and we don’t mind sacrificing to achieve them.”

Kara looked at Lee, who was wearing a somewhat queasy expression, like the appetizer hadn’t agreed with him. Or something hadn’t anyway. She couldn’t blame him. Kara had thought he was stuffy and humorless when she’d met him, but Lee was a barrel of laughs compared to the girlfriend. And this relationship sure seemed more like a contract negotiation than any kind of love match. Not that she had all that much experience with love, but this definitely didn’t look like it did in the movies. Still, it was none of her business anyway…

Just then, Bill called out to Lee from the opposite side of the tightly packed foyer, beckoning with a raised hand, and he excused himself—with not a little relief, Kara noted—turning and heading into the crowd.

Both women watched him go then Gianne turned to Kara, leaning in as if she were confessing a secret. “Listen, Kara, I understand you’ve been giving Leland something of a hard time.”

Irritation prickled through Kara. As if he was just sweetness and light all day long. She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice when she said, “You know Lee.”

“Yes, I do,” Gianne frowned. “And I don’t like to see him upset.”

Kara stared, wondering how anyone who’d ever met Lee Adama—no less his girlfriend—could be oblivious to the fact that “upset” seemed to be his default setting. “Then I suggest you invest in blindfolds.” She tipped the drink up, draining it in one long swallow, then slapped it into the woman’s hand and sauntered off into the crowd.

****

Kara jammed the last piece of clothing into her oversized duffel and tried to tug the zipper closed. It refused to budge. She grabbed the pulltab and yanked harder. It slid a few inches then got stuck again. She paused, breathing hard, cursing the need for such a big bag (she hadn’t been able to resist stuffing in some belated birthday presents for Hera) and heard a knock at the door.

“Come in!” she yelled, figuring Laura must be saying goodbye before she headed to her sister’s in Vancouver. Making one last attempt to conquer the overstuffed duffel, Kara climbed on the bed, straddling the bag with her thighs and gripped the zipper pull.

“Trying to wrestle it into submission?” asked a familiar, deep voice that wasn’t Laura. Kara’s eyes widened to see Lee propped in her doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he smirked at her.

“Hey,” she said, surprised to see him as she settled back on her haunches. “Something like that. Come on in.”

He walked over to the bed as Kara tried again to yank the zipper closed. “You want some help? I could hold the sides closed if—”

“No, I got it.” She slid back a little, so just the end of the bag was braced by her knees and Kara gripped the pull again and wrenched it as hard as she could. A distinct tearing noise split the air and the zip whizzed back along the metal teeth, all resistance evaporating, and the sudden momentum knocked Kara off-balance, sending both herself and the bag tumbling off the bed. 

“Are you alright?” Lee said, reaching a hand down as she sat up in a heap of her exploded clothing, even as he chuckled. “God, you are so stubborn.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Kara retorted, but she took his outstretched hand and let him pull her upright. Even when she was on her feet again, though, Lee held her grip for a few extra seconds, eyes dancing. When he released her fingers, she felt a pang of disappointment for a split second before she crouched down scooping up the busted bag and shoving clothes in. 

“Haven’t been up here in years.” Lee said looking around, as he dropped to his knees to help gather up her wardrobe. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” She looked up to see him eyeing the messy piles of clothing strewn haphazardly around the room. “Has a real lived-in quality.” He swept up the last piece of clothing—which just happened to be a red lace thong—and his ears turned red as he handed it to Kara.

She couldn’t help grinning. Lee was such a  _boy scout_. Kara hooked the straps and heaved the gaping duffel onto her bed.  _Shit._  Well, she’d just have to tie a garbage bag around it or something. No time to repack. Kara’d planned to catch the next bus back to Boston and she only had about 20 minutes to get down to the depot.

“Hey what’s this?” She looked up to find Lee on the other side of the room, staring at the photo shoved into the crack of her mirror.

Kara walked over to him and plucked the old picture out of the seam. Her fingers smoothed the creases and cracked corners of the photo of herself kneeling on the rink, her face lowered to the ice, on the day of her first game as a starter at UB. “I made the mistake of mentioning to my teammates my first year how much I loved the smell of the ice. Someone grabbed a camera and it became this thing.”

Lee’s brow creased. “Huh. I never thought about it.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said, the words slipping out unchecked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lee said, his tone sharpening slightly.

She swallowed. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“No! Kara, Come on. You obviously meant something by it.”

 She sighed. “I just…I think you might skate even better if you let yourself enjoy it a little. That’s all.”

His mouth tightened a little. “Are we back to this? Gonna call me a robot again?”

“Well, you’re the one who brought it up.” Kara rolled a shoulder.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“NO, I—” Lee paused, his eyes clenching shut for a second as he blew out a frustrated breath.

Kara leaned in, voice laced with amusement. “Now who’s stubborn?”

Lee’s eyes popped open and he shook his head, but she caught the hint of a smile on his lips. “Anyway, I just wanted to catch you before you left and give you this.” He held up a square plastic case.

“You… made me a mix CD?” Kara guessed, her tone mocking. “Aw, that’s really sweet, Lee.”

“Actually, it’s our performance from Sectionals. I just thought your family might want to see it since they couldn’t be there.”

“Oh,” Kara said, slowly. “Thanks.” 

“About that…My dad booked some extra rooms in Chicago if they’d like to stay with us.”

“My family?”

“Yes. They are coming to Nationals, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, I…”— _highly doubt it_ — “don’t know.”

“But look at all you’ve done! They must be really excited.” 

“Sure,” Kara said quickly.  _Maybe._   _If they had any idea I was actually doing this_. “It’s just…they’re pretty busy with the bar and all.” She smiled, hesitantly. “But thank you, really. That’s very generous.”

Lee studied her for a moment, “So, your mom owns a bar?” 

“My mom?” Kara was confused for a minute. “Oh! Oh no, it’s my brother’s bar.  I haven’t seen…” she broke off suddenly, not wanting to open a path to more questions. “Actually, it’s a long story. That I’m sure you have better things to do than to listen to.”  She shook the little CD case, turning it over in her hands. “But thanks for this.” Kara walked back to the bed and slipped it into a side pocket of the duffel.

“Actually, I don’t.”

“Huh?” Kara asked, turning back to him.

“I don’t really have better things to do,” he mumbled, head tilted.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Gianne went back to London.” He coughed. “There was a business emergency.”

A business emergency on the weekend? Just a day after she’d flown cross-continental to visit the boyfriend she hadn’t actually seen in months? Kara’s bullshit meter was pinging off the charts, but Lee was shifting, eyes on the floor and looking decidedly uncomfortable already.

“So I guess it’s just you and Bill this week.” 

“Actually, I think he’s heading out on Tuesday for a trip to the Dubai office.” Kara frowned, thinking of Lee rattling around the castle by himself.

“It’s no big deal,” he said, as if reading her mind. “The peace and quiet will be good. Restful.” 

She nodded slowly, but her brain got stuck on the idea of Lee all alone. He was babbling on, saying something about the weather possibly, when Kara blurted the words out.

“You want to come with?”

His eyes widened. “Pardon?”

Kara took a breath, wondering what the hell she was doing, even as the words tumbled from her lips. “You could come home with me, if you want” She shrugged. “Karl and Sharon won’t care, and if no one’s going to be here, well…I just thought you might wanna get away from this place for a while,” Kara paused, feeling slightly more awkward now. “But maybe you don’t—”

“No! I mean, yes! Yes, I’ll come.” The words rushed out, seemingly surprising Lee even as he was saying them. “I…I could definitely use a change of scenery.” He smiled, and she was reminded again that he had a really nice smile. “Thank you.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” Kara grinned, feeling a kick of excitement at the prospect for a road trip. “So, how fast can you pack? I was supposed to take a bus in…uh…” she checked her watch and cringed, “15 minutes.”

Lee’s open grin changed into a smirk and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Hmm. Why am I suddenly feeling like this was all a carefully plotted scheme just so you wouldn’t have to bus it to Boston?”

“There was no plotting involved,” Kara protested, pulling her shoulders back as she sailed past him to scoop her skates up off the bed. “But I sure as hell ain’t gonna complain if you’re offering to drive us in style.”

“I’m wounded, Kara.” He said, hand to his chest, but she could tell he was teasing by the light in his eyes. “You just want me for what’s under my hood.”

She raised a brow, surprised at the playfulness in his tone. Kara grinned and licked her lips. “Some people might call it compensating, but what can I say?” she winked, let her voice go low. “I’ve always appreciated the ability to pack some serious horsepower.”   

Lee flushed red from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck as Kara cackled, and he shook his head. “Ah, speaking of packing... Meet you down at the garage in ten?”

Kara nodded and he headed out the door. “Bring your skates!” she called after him.

As she grabbed a plastic bag to wrap around her duffel, Kara laughed to herself. She never could’ve imagined when she woke up this morning that she’d be taking Lee Adama home like some abandoned puppy. It was strange the way things worked out sometimes.

Hell, maybe she could even talk him into letting her drive.

***

Four hours, two pit stops, twelve fights over the radio station, and one squealing-brake incident later, they pulled into the already crowded parking lot in front of Karl’s bar. They climbed out of the car and Kara took a deep breath, staring up at the familiar, slightly ramshackle building. “So, this is it.”

She turned and saw Lee staring too, his brow wrinkled in confusion, as he read the faded sign that stretched along the roof. “Agathon’s Arena?”

“Yup, not that I can remember the last time anyone called it that.”

“Wait, what do they call it?”

“Helo’s.”

His brow creased further. “As in… helicopter?”

Kara shook her head, smirking, and pointed to a neon sign in the front window that read “Hello”—or would’ve if the middle letter wasn’t blown out. “It broke a month after he got it. Told him he should’ve went with “Open” or “Welcome,” but Karl insisted this was _friendlier_.” She rolled her eyes, but there was genuine affection in her tone. “Name just kinda stuck. Agathon’s is too long anyway.”

“Uh, how come it’s Agathon, anyway, not Thrace?”

 “I’m…” she paused, trying to think of the easiest way to explain with the least amount of questions, “kind of adopted,” Kara said, then tilted her head toward the entrance. “C’mon.”

They pushed through the door into a brightly-lit, crowded bar. Kara’s eyes skipped around the familiar four walls, lingering for a moment on the corner to the left of the entrance where Karl’d put up a Buccaneers penant, some trophies, and one of her old jerseys, plus some pics of Kara on the ice. She turned away and caught Lee looking too, his mouth slightly agape. She imagined how the scuffed wooden floors and mismatched tables and chairs must look to his eyes and felt a flash of defensiveness suddenly.

“Not quite what you’re used to, huh?” Kara shrugged. “It’s a little worse for wear, but…it’s home.”

“What? No, I really—”

His words were cut off by a voice shouting, “Kara?” Then two arms were wrapped around her, squeezing in an enormous bear hug, and practically lifting her off the floor.

“Hey, I missed you too, you big brute. Put me down!”

“What, when you joined the military did you forget how to use the phone?”

Karl set her down, but kept an arm looped over Kara’s shoulder and turned, facing the bar. “Ladies and gents, it’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Kara Thrace, our star Buc, home from the merchant marines!”

 Kara cringed as a bunch of folks cried out greetings and some of the regulars swarmed around to hug and kiss her. Between embraces, Lee leaned in, his voice quiet but with a note of bemusement in her ear. “Merchant marines, Kara?”

She flushed and was floundering to explain, when Karl said, “Okay, okay, let her come up for air here. C’mon… Move back, move back. Cruisin’ all over the world and they can’t even get to the bar! Hey, hey! ‘Ensign Thrace!’ No, no…‘Lieutenant Thrace’ — ‘CAPTAIN Thrace!’”

He laughed uproariously and Kara groaned. Then he stuck his hand out to Lee. “Hey, you must be one of the few, the proud, and all that too, huh? Nice to meet you. “

“Uh, no, I’m…not a soldier. Lee Adama. Nice to meet you too.” He shook Karl’s hand. “You’ve got a great place here.” Karl nodded his thanks and both men turned back to Kara as if waiting for an explanation.

She opened her mouth, but just then a small dark blur darted out of the crowd of customers and clamped onto her leg. “AUNTIE KARA! You’re home!” 

Kara grinned and ducked down to sweep her niece up and squeeze her tight, then settle her on a hip. Hera had on the BU child-sized jersey Kara had bought her last Christmas. Sharon walked up to their little circle and leaned in to kiss Kara’s cheek. “Hey, we were supposed to be getting ready for a bath but she saw you pull up outside and insisted on coming down to say hello.” She grabbed Hera’s foot and squeezed playfully. “So we’re going to say hi for five minutes and then we’re going right back upstairs to take that bath, right, young lady?”

Hera nodded but turned her attention right back to Kara, lacing her chubby little arms around Kara’s neck and squeezing. “I scored two goals yesterday and I stole the puck away from Nicky!”

Kara laughed, “You did? That’s my girl!”

She nodded then frowned. “Nicky cried though and Daddy said I had to give it back. I tole him that’s not what you taught me but he said you were a bad ’fluence. What’s a ’fluence, Auntie? Do you have a cold? Mommy makes me soup when I have a cold. Do you want some soup?”

Kara smirked. “No, I’m good, sweetie. Your mom’s cooking would probably only make me feel worse.”

Sharon slugged her shoulder and Kara laughed, but then she turned to Lee, dark eyes appraising him. “Hi! You must be in Kara’s squadron?”

“No, actually, I—”

Kara cut him off, words rushing out as she turned to Sharon. “Oh, hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call first, but is it okay if Lee stays with us this week?”

“You know you don’t have to ask Kara,” Karl answered. “ _Mi casa e su casa_. And any friend of yours is welcome.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She grinned. She really had missed them.

Sharon reached out to take Hera back. “I’ll put some sheets in your room, so you guys can make up the bed.”  

Both Kara and Lee protested loudly at once. 

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, we’re not—”

Sharon raised an eyebrow at their vehement replies.

“Uh, it’s not like that.” Kara said, her face feeling like it was on fire. “We’re just friends. Lee’s fine with the couch.”

“Okay.” Looking back and forth between them, Sharon just shrugged and said, “Hera, why don’t we show Auntie Kara’s friend upstairs, okay?” The girl flicked a curious glance to Lee, who awkwardly held up a hand to wave, but then she twisted and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. “Sorry,” Sharon grimaced. “She’s going through a bit of a shy phase with strangers.” She sighed. “Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour. We can give these two a chance to spout hockey statistics at each other till they turn blue.”

Lee nodded and followed Sharon across the bar and up the stairs.

“So if you’re not in the same squadron, how do you two know each other?” Karl asked less than a minute after they’d left, his brow crinkling in bemused confusion. “Hey, he’s not your CO, is he? Cause I think—”

“Karl, can you just cool it with the merchant marines thing?”

“What?”

“I didn’t join the marines,” she hisses.

“What do you mean? Then where the hell were you?”

Kara took a breath, tongue running out to wet her lips. She was about to answer when she suddenly realized that several sets of ears were turned their way. “Can we talk about this outside?”

Karl cocked his head. “We’re all family here, Kara. Go ahead and tell me now.”

“Uh…OK…Well, actually, it’s…uh… kind of interesting.” He didn’t say anything, just nodded encouragingly so Kara went on. “I…I’ve been doing a little… _figure skating_.”

The last two words came out barely above a mumble, but still the sound in the bar cut out as immediately as if someone had pulled the plug on a jukebox. In the silence, Drunk Dave raised his head from where he was slumped on the bar and said aloud, “Finger painting?”

Kara shut her eyes for a minute and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was not going well at all. She grabbed Karl’s arm and dragged him towards the back entrance, nodding to one of the wait staff to take over the bar.

They stepped out into the backyard, cool night air settling a chill into Kara’s bones. Karl didn’t seem to feel it though. He was pacing back and forth, disappointment and anger written all over his face. Crap, this was why she hadn’t wanted to tell him in the first place.

“Look, Karl, I know this sounds crazy. I’m a hockey player, right? Not an ice skater! But this lady, our coach, she came down here back in winter and recruited me to skate with Lee. And he’s amazing. And they’ve got their own rink, indoors, ice every day, and this huge mansion in Greenwich, and I’m telling you, Karl, we’re good. We’re really good, and I think—“

“KARA!”

She stopped rambling immediately at his harsh cry.

“Let me just get this straight. Are you saying that all this time I thought you were fighting on foreign soil, you were here, in Connecticut, skating?”

She nodded slowly.

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, then closed again. He raked a hand over the back of his head, palm settling on the nape of his neck for a second before he dropped it and looked at Kara again, the words sputtering out. “Why in God’s name didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this!” she thundered. “Look, I know it’s not what you expected, Karl. It’s not what you wanted for me. But I can’t be that person anymore,” she gestured back towards the bar, “the star of the Buccaneers. I know that was your dream. And it was my dream too…” She paused, swallowing hard.  “But that part of my life is over.”

“What? Kara, what— I don’t even—” He stopped and gave a heavy sigh, his head shaking, and he stepped closer to Kara, clapping his hands onto her shoulders. “Hey, the only thing I want for you? The only thing I have EVER wanted for you?” His eyes are wide and serious. “Is for you to be happy, Kara.” Karl and stretched an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him, squeezing, and Kara sagged into his chest and let out the breath she’d been holding ever since she stepped out of the car earlier.

When he finally let her go, Kara looked up at him to see him smirking down at her. “So you’re good, huh?”

“I think we can make it all the way. The Olympics, Karl.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, grinning now.

“Alright. Alright then.” He slung his arm over her shoulders again, and they walked back towards the door. “So tell me about this _partner_  of yours. Cripes, does he have to, like, wear tights and shit?” 


	5. Chapter 5

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

Kara tugged Lee forward a few more steps across the snowy field behind the bar, then stopped. She slung an arm around his waist and turned him slightly, flinging one arm out in front of her.

“Okay. Check it out.” She watched Lee’s eyes open, then widen as he took in the sight in front of him. The large frozen pond gleamed in the winter sunlight, and the tall snow-topped pines ringing it in a semi-circle made it look like something out of one of those old-timey postcards. She beamed at Lee.  “It’s not as fancy as your digs, but it’s got a hell of a view.”

Lee was staring, his mouth parted slightly as if in surprise. He seemed almost frozen in place and the look on his face seemed dazed, as if he wasn’t quite all there suddenly. Kara raised an eyebrow. If she had to choose, the pond was probably her favorite place on God’s green earth, but Lee’s reaction to it was still a bit overwhelming. “Lee?”

He blinked and his mouth closed, and he turned to her, shaking his head a little as if to clear it, and smiled with some embarrassment. “I haven’t seen a pond like this since I was a little kid.”

She grinned and walked a few steps over to a stone bench to sit down, taking her skates from around her neck and loosening the laces. “Yeah? The ice prince deigned to skate with the peasants once upon a time, huh?”

He rolled his eyes a little as he walked over and plunked down next to her. “Actually, I’ll have you know that I come from hearty peasant stock. Half of me anyway.” He turned to face Kara’s questioning eyes, lifting his own skates from where they hung, laces knotted together, around his neck. “My grandparents—my mother’s parents—were farmers from Wisconsin. They had a pond just about this size on their land.”

 Lee inhaled deeply, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth with the memory. “That’s where I learned to skate, actually. My mother used to take my hands and tell me to stand on her skates and she’d pull me around the ice. God, I loved it. I never wanted to stop.”

Kara’s curiosity was piqued. He was smiling and talking about his mother in the same breath. “How old were you?”

“I couldn’t have been more than four or five.” His head lifted suddenly, a shadow falling across his face, and he breathed the words seemingly to himself. “Zak was still alive.”

“Zak?”

Lee paused, and Kara thought for a second that he wasn’t going to answer her. “My brother.”

“Brother?” No one—not Lee, not Bill, not Roslin—had ever mentioned a brother to her.

He nodded slowly, his head bowing, his fingers returning to pick at his still-knotted laces. “He was eighteen when he…” The words trailed off and Lee cleared his throat. “I was nine and I thought he walked on water.” His mouth twisted wryly suddenly. “I guess he kind of did.”

Kara just looked at him, afraid if she spoke that he would stop.

“Zak was a speed skater. My mother used to say she tried to teach him to figure skate, but he had no patience for figures, no discipline. He just wanted to go as fast as he could.”  

Lee smiled, so Kara did the same. “He was good?”

“He was amazing. I’ve never seen anyone move like that.” He shook his head. “He was training for the Olympics. The case in my father’s study? That should have had his gold medal in it.”

And clearly it’d lain empty ever since. Waiting for Lee to fill it. “What happened?”

His face tightened. “Car accident. Drunk driver. The day before the Olympic qualifiers.” He exhaled hard.  “He died on the way to the hospital.”

Kara cringed. She’d assumed Lee’s disdain for alcohol was all part of his stick-up-his-ass brand of charm.  “My God… I’m really sorry, Lee.”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” Lee refocused on his skates, but his features were drawn, heavy now.

Kara bent, tugging her own blades on, feeling awkward in the silence. She grappled for a happier topic. “So what was he like? Zak? I mean, aside from being a speed demon and all.”

He stilled again, but there was a smile tugging at his lips now. “He was… the Golden Boy. And I’m not talking about medals. He just had something, you know? Like, he…burned a little brighter than everyone else. Zak was always so confident, cocky even. And he always got what he wanted.”

“OK, no offense,” Kara said, her face skeptical, “but he sounds kind of insufferable.”

Lee laughed a little. “No, I idolized him. Wanted to be just like him. He and my mom, they both had that spark. I was more like my dad I guess. Serious.” He paused, his voice dropping a little, the words coming out more slowly. “Sometimes when were all together, I felt…invisible.”

Kara felt a pang for the lonely little boy he must have been, but Lee shrugged a shoulder and went on. “But that was Zak. He didn’t even have to try. Everyone just loved him.” There was a note of wistfulness to the words, like he couldn’t believe it could be that easy, and without conscious thought, Kara shifted closer and squeezed his arm.

Lee turned to her and smiled. “You would’ve liked him too. Actually,” he paused, considering her, “you remind me of him, a little, sometimes.” She smiled, feeling a foolish rush of pleasure at the words even though she’d never met the guy.

“Life was like a big party to Zak. I remember this one night when he called home real late, woke the whole house up. He needed a ride back from Manhattan because he’d given all his money to this homeless guy, a war veteran he’d met outside Port Authority.” Lee’s eyes glazed with the memory, his mouth twisting a little as he shook his head. “My dad was so pissed when he left to get him, but an hour later, they walk in the door, and he’s laughing so hard he’s practically crying at some story Zak was telling.”

Kara’s eyebrow rose. “The Old Man laughs?”

“He used to. Then after Zak died…” Lee chuckled suddenly, a short, bitter sound. “It’s such a cliché, really. The stoic father who throws himself into his work and stops coming home at night, the grieving mother who falls into a deep depression and then…one day… she just walks out. ”

In her head, Kara heard an echo of Lee’s voice telling her that he needed to know she wouldn’t walk away and winced. She noticed his knuckles were white where he was still gripping his skates, sorrow creasing his brow. “She left while I was at school. Didn’t even leave a note.”

“Lee, some people just aren’t cut out to be parents,” Kara said, softly. “It took me a long time to figure that out. That fathers and mothers make mistakes and bad decisions and sometimes, they’re just as fucked up as we are.”

He turned his head and stared at her, all solemn eyes. “Like your mom?”

Kara sighed.  She hadn’t had to talk about this—think about this—in a long time.  “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

Kara tucked her hands under her thighs and shrugged. “My mom was a sergeant in the military and she treated me like one of her recruits. Nothing I did was ever good enough. She was just so angry all the time. Kept telling me I had to learn to be strong.” Her voice hardened, as her mind skipped back to the past. “That she would make me strong.”

She paused and Lee spoke, his voice tight, “She hit you.” It wasn’t a question.

Kara nodded, then a faint smirk settled on her face. “When I got older, I joined the hockey team at school, and found out that I was pretty good at hitting things too. Then, three weeks after my 13th birthday—God, I don’t even remember why now—she grabbed my hand, slammed it in the door, broke every finger. That was it for me. I waited for my hand to heal, slipped a bunch of sleeping pills into her drink one night, and just took off.”

“You ran away?” His eyes were wide in shock. “Where did you go?”

She shrugged. “Nowhere. Everywhere.” Kara paused, a faint smirk on her face, and glanced furtively at Lee. “I was a bit of a  _street urchin_  for a while there.”

His eyes widened slightly and then he cringed, and Kara knew he recognized his angry words from the first day they’d met. “It was cold and I was hungry all the time, though,” she continued, frowning at the memory. “Then, one night a few months after I left home, I ended up here. I was poking through the dumpster, looking for scraps, and Karl caught me.”

She smiled suddenly, remembering the look on his face. “I knew him a little, had played against his school a few times, but I thought for sure he was going to call the cops. Karl just took me inside to his parents though, like I was some wounded stray animal he’d found.” Kara huffed a small laugh. “Guess I kind of was.”

Lee didn’t laugh, he just stared, bright blue eyes intensely focused on her. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it looked like sympathy rather than pity this time, and it was enough to make her keep talking.

“Joe and Claire fed me and told me I could stay with them until they sorted things out with my mom. I was so afraid they were going to send me back to her, but they never did.” She grinned, her heart swelling with the memories. “They kept me.”

Lee smiled now too. “They sound like good people,” he paused, words coming more slowly. “Are…they…?”

Her eyes widened. “Nah, they’re fine.  Retired. They moved down to Florida a few years ago. The weather’s better for Joe’s arthritis.”

“You must miss them.”

“Yeah,” Kara swallowed hard. “If it hadn’t been for the Agathons, I know I wouldn’t be here now. They took me in, gave me everything. Treated me like I was their own flesh and blood,” her voice softened. “Made sure I got help too.” 

Lee raised an eyebrow.

“I was pretty messed up for a long time. Pissed at the world and just couldn’t let it go.” Kara shrugged. “I thought if I just knew why, what I’d done, then maybe I could understand why she did it. It took a lot of hours in therapy,“ she paused and grinned, “and even more just hitting things really, really hard, to realize that whatever my mother’s problem was, it didn’t really have anything to do with me.”

“God, Kara, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.” He studied her face. “And you’re  so… _okay_.” Lee said it with such confusion that she laughed, and he grinned a little. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—you’re a bit crazy, but you don’t seem… ” He stopped, his brow creased, as if he wasn’t sure of the right words for it.

“Tortured by my deep dark past?” Her lips quirked. “Most of the time, I  _am_  okay. But sometimes…” Kara rolled her shoulders. “When I was playing hockey? Every so often I’d look up into the stands and expect to see her there. Never did. Part of me was glad, and part of me thought that if she could just see me, see how good I was, then maybe…”

“She’d love you more.” Lee finished for her, his eyes wide with recognition, until he blinked and chuckled ruefully. “God, what a pair we are, huh?”  

Kara smiled. “Yeah. Guess so.” The smile faded though when his did, his face looking solemn again.

“Lee, just because someone leaves, it doesn’t mean that she stops loving the person she left behind. Trust me.” She nudged his shoulder. “Wherever she is, I know your mom loves you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just not enough.”

His words were rueful and Kara could still see the effects of their discussion in the deeply drawn lines around his mouth. She had a crazy fleeting urge to lift her hand, press her fingers to his skin, smooth them away. Kara dismissed the foolish notion almost as soon as it cropped up. Crap. This pity party was making her maudlin.

 She reached over and tugged the skates from Lee’s hands, laying them aside. He lifted his head, confused, and Kara  smiled and slid her fingers through his. “Skate with me.”

“Uh, don’t I need blades for that?”

She shook her head. “Skate with me like you skated when you were little.” She smiled. “When you never wanted to stop.”

“Kara—” he protested, but he let her pull him up to his feet and slip her other hand into his, tugging him towards the ice.  

“You’re a bit too heavy to stand on my feet, but I’ve been working out. I can tow your ass around for a little while at least,” she smirked.

“These boots have no traction. I’ll be slipping and sliding all over the ice,” he argued, a slight whine creeping into the words.  “And are you even sure that pond is solid?”

 “Yes, I am sure,” she rolled her eyes. “C’mon, you won’t even have to do any work. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun?” Lee spluttered. “Why does your idea of fun always mean I end up with bruises?”

Kara winked at him. “Hey, I work hard, I play hard.” She stepped back, her blades cutting into the ice, but he dug in on the snowy bank. “C’mon Adama, stop worrying about black-and-blues on your precious backside. I won’t let you fall.”

Her tone was light, teasing, but Lee’s eyes met hers and something passed between them, then he just stepped forward. “Okay.”

Kara grinned and started gliding backwards slowly, while Lee tentatively slid his feet forward on the ice with small strides. She watched a smile stretch on his face, and picked up the pace a little. Sharp gusts of crisp, cold air riffled her hair as they moved, loosening some strands from the low ponytail she’d taken to wearing lately. Kara took a deep breath, almost dizzy with exhilaration as she moved faster around the familiar contours of the pond.

As the pace increased, Lee tried to match her strides on instinct. But when he lifted his front leg and pushed off on the back, his foot skidded and he lurched off balance, falling. Kara lunged forward, grabbing him around the ribs, and his head thudded against her shoulder as he slipped, arms clutching at her hips. She looked down then started giggling helplessly, peals of laughter streaming out. “W-when I said I wouldn’t let you f-fall, I didn’t c-count on you using my…” she grunted, already breathless, as she tried to push Lee up, “ch-chest as a f-floatation device.” 

His response was muffled by the fact that his face was buried in her jacket. Lee used his hands to climb up her body, and wrench himself back onto his feet.

“What was that now?” Kara asked, still giggling into his red face as she pulled her arms out from under his.

“I said, if I’m going down, you bet your ass you are too, Thrace.”  His grin was slow with a hint of wickedness, and his eyes flicked down her body, then back up and he winked.

Kara raised her eyebrows.  _Why, Lee Adama, I do believe you’re flirting with me._  “That a threat or a promise, Adama?” she murmured huskily and watched his eyes narrow.

Without waiting for an answer, Kara just smirked and grabbed his hands again, pushing backwards.  She dug a little harder with her blades, hands tightening around Lee’s, as she swiveled her hips, skating in a serpentine motion. He laughed as he slid after her, tugged sideways by the movements, and Kara felt a rush of giddiness as they circled the ice, gaining speed and momentum. She pushed harder, craving that moment when the motion changed from physics to flying.

And then suddenly her right blade’s motion was arrested as she butted against something hard and she lost her balance, tipping backwards and crashing down on the ice. It happened too fast to let go, and a second later Lee slammed down on top of her with a grunt, almost knocking the wind out of her. He moved, trying to untangle his legs from hers, and even through puffy winter coats, she could feel his muscles shifting against her from neck to knees. Kara gasped in air, looking up into eyes round with surprise.

 “Toepick?”

Kara twisted her head, craning to sweep her gaze across the ice behind them, then met his eyes again, wheezing out the words.

“Tree root.”

They stared at each other blankly for a second and then, even though it wasn’t really all that funny, they both started laughing. Hysterical, gasping laughter racked through them, their entire bodies shaking with it.

“Can’t…breathe.” Kara’s hands slid to Lee’s ribs, pushing weakly at his sides, even as she still huffed with laughter, and he moved over her, rising up slightly on one elbow. His face was close and she watched it shift as his laughter quieted suddenly and his smile faded, his eyes locking on hers with a speculative gaze. Kara’s eyes widened and she inhaled again—needing air for an entirely different reason—as Lee’s hand lifted slowly, _slowly_ , to her face. He traced a fallen lock of hair with his fingertip, the touch ghosting across her forehead to the delicate skin at her temple, then down the curve of her cheek.

She shivered then froze, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, as his finger brushed the corner of her mouth and then his head lowered. Unable to stop herself, Kara’s glance flicked to his lips, then her eyes fluttered shut, and she could feel his breath against her skin. Her stomach tensed with anticipation and Lee’s fingers slid down, tracing over her jawbone and the line of her throat and then, finally—

A loud voice split the quiet air surrounding them. “LEE! YOU LEFT YOUR CELL PHONE ON THE BAR!!” Kara’s eyes flew open and Lee’s went wide and he rolled off her with a jolt, clambering to his feet so quickly he slipped a little on the ice. Karl called again, “SOMEONE’S CALLING FROM LONDON FOR YOU!”

“BE RIGHT THERE!” Stricken eyes turned toward Kara, and she fought the urge to close hers again. Instead, she rolled over, and got to her feet.

“Kara, I—” he stopped, frowning, and as curious as she was about how he might end that sentence, Kara wasn’t quite that much of a masochist.

“You better go,” She shoved her hands in her pockets, shifting awkwardly. “I hear international rates are a real bitch,” she said lamely.

Lee nodded, apology all over his face. Kara wondered for a second whether he was sorry they were interrupted or just sorry they weren’t interrupted sooner. He smiled tentatively, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, then he dashed off towards the house. Kara just watched him go, then pushed off again, gliding faster and faster around the ice until it felt like flying again.

***

“It’s really great of Lee to let Hera use him as a personal jungle gym.” Sharon said, plopping down in the chair across the table from Kara and offering her a fresh beer. “He’s good with kids.”

Kara looked over to where her skating partner was slumped against the couch, her niece standing on his chest, one hand patting his face none too gently, and snickered as she twisted off the cap. “I think he’s just too terrified to resist, actually.” But she continued to watch them and couldn’t help smiling a little. Hera was one of the people she loved best in this world, and anyone who made her laugh like that got pretty high marks in her books too.

“Oh my God!”

She turned her head back to Sharon at the excited exclamation. “What?”

“I’ve seen that look before!”

“What look?” she scoffed, but her gaze shifted slightly.

“ _That_  look!” Sharon leaned closer, an incredibly smug smile dancing on her face as she pointed at Kara. “That googly-eyed I-just-want-to-scribble-his-name-in-a-heart-on-my-notebook look!” She shook her head, grinning, then took another sip of beer. “God, never thought I’d see it on you, though.”

“I don’t— _do not_  want to sc-scribble—” She spluttered, feeling her face flush, and lowered her voice. “I do not look like that!”

“Mmm,” Sharon said noncommittally, raising an eyebrow at her and giving a knowing stare.

Kara frowned. “He has a girlfriend. We’re just partners.” That moment at the pond had been nothing. Just a weird moment. Too much fresh air making them loopy.

Sharon’s gaze flicked back to the couch and a wide grin curved her lips. Kara folded her arms, refusing to turn and see why she was smiling like that now. “Well that’s a pity, because a guy who lets my kid run ripshod over him, drives a Porsche, and looks like that in a pair of jeans…” she trailed off tantalizingly and Kara was only human. Her head turned to find Lee facing away from them on all fours, Hera bouncing on his back as she cried “Faster, horsie! Faster!” Obligingly, he stretched forward, tight denim outlining powerful thighs and a sculpted ass, and both women sighed at the same time, then looked at each other and snickered.

Kara took another swig and pointed a finger at Sharon. “Hey! You’re a married woman.”

“Married, not dead,” Sharon insisted. “Besides, I teach tai chi. It’s my job to notice good form.” Her gaze skipped back to Lee and she raised her bottle and murmured, “And that man has  _very_ good form.” Kara kicked her foot lightly under the table and Sharon laughed and took a drink, then cocked an eyebrow at Kara. “So what’s your excuse?”

“Just stop, okay?” Kara shook her head. “It’s not like that.”

“If you say so,” Sharon singsonged in a tone that said she didn’t believe her at all. “I think you’re crazy, but whatever makes you happy, Kara.” She paused, sparkling dark eyes fixing on Kara’s. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

“OK, you been practicing double-teaming me or what? ‘Cause I already had this conversation with Karl, you know.” She grinned though, her amusement outweighing her irritation.

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Well it’s been a rough couple of years. We were worried for a while.” She frowned and Kara knew she was remembering those first few months after her injury, when she’d gone on a bit of a bender. It felt like eons ago now. “Anyway, you deserve good things.”

“And I think I’ve found one.  _Figure skating_ ,” she stressed. “I mean, I know it sounds crazy but… we’re good.  _Really_  good.” Kara paused, toying with the label on her bottle. “I think we could win, Sharon. The Olympics!” She grinned, a thrill racing through her just at saying the words out loud. “And I would be a total idiot if I messed that up.”

Sharon opened her mouth, probably to protest—Kara found that people in long-term relationships always conveniently forgot all the difficult shit that happened on the way there—but they were interrupted by a small voice. “Auntie Kara! Auntie Kara!”

Saved by the toddler. Kara beamed down at Hera, who was running over to them, tugging Lee behind her by the hand. “What is it, sweetie?” She reached down and picked up the girl, pulling her onto her lap. God, she was getting big.

The child clutched a piece of paper and thrust it towards Kara, nearly taking out an eye with one of the corners. “Whoa! What is this? Is this for me?”

“Yup,” she nodded, all big eyes and big curls.”Me and Unca Lee made it.”

Kara’s eyebrows shot up and she lifted her head to look at Lee. “Unca Lee, huh?” He flushed and tilted his head in a way that was sort of ridiculously charming, then with a wince, settled gingerly onto one of the chairs. 

Sharon was trying unsuccessfully to smother a laugh as she watched him. “You know, we’re well aware that she’s a little tyrant. If she’s wearing you out, you can say so.”

“No! No, it’s fine. It’s a good workout, in fact. Laura’s going to have my head on a plate when we get back. I’ve never slacked off like this for so many days in a row before.”

Kara felt a pang of guilt. “We’ll go running tomorrow.”

Lee stretched a leg out and rested it on the bottom rung of Kara’s chair, turning his head her way and grinning even though his words were clearly directed at Sharon. “See? I’m used to bossy women anyway.”

 Kara stuck out her tongue but he just laughed. As Sharon launched into a discussion about fitness regimens with Lee, she looked back down at the paper in her hand and tightened the arm looped around Hera’s waist. “So, who is this?”

The girl pointed to a blur of yellow and blue on the paper. “That’s you, Auntie! You’re skating!”

Kara squinted at the paper. “And what’s that?” Her finger skated over a bright splotch of red crayon.

“That’s a boo boo,” Hera frowned suddenly. “You fell down and went boom,” she said solemnly.

“I did? How did that happen?”

The little girl shot a decidedly conspiratorial look across the table at Lee—who was clearly only listening to Sharon with one ear, since he was smirking to beat the band—and then she grinned at Kara. Her missing teeth made her smile look more than a little like the jack-o-lantern on the back porch. “Toe-pick!”

Kara’s mouth dropped and Lee busted out laughing at the same time Hera clapped her hands and started giggling. She kicked his ankle off her chair rung and Lee nearly fell onto the floor, grabbing the seat to stay upright, even as his shoulders shook with mirth.

Shaking her head, she watched him laughing and it occurred to Kara suddenly that right here, slumped in the chair with the bad leg and missing rungs at their scuffed kitchen table, Lee actually looked more comfortable than she’d ever seen him. She wasn’t sure if she should find it amusing or disturbing that after nearly a year of trying to fit into his world, it took Lee less than a week to slot himself into hers like he’d always been there.  

***  

Kara stifled her fifth yawn of the hour and shifted on the couch, grimacing when a spring dug into her back. “Okay, I don’t know how the hell you’ve slept on this thing all week.”

Slumped next to her, Lee turned his head from the cheesy sci-fi flick they’d settled on. “Like a baby, actually.” He smoothed a hand down the cracked leather cushion. “Slept better than I do at home.”

“Maybe you can buy it off Karl and take it back with us,” Kara snorted. “I’m sure it would fit in just perfectly with the mansion’s décor.”

Lee chuckled while Kara fidgeted, and tried to get back into the movie. It had started off fine with a lot of exciting space battles, but then it moved into some weird mystical territory that was less compelling, and there was still an hour to go.

She shifted, trying to find a comfortable position for her sore limbs, and groaned. “Remind me again whose bright idea it was to skate _every day_  of our vacation?”

“Your family wanted to see our routines!” Lee said. “It only seemed fair, since they can’t make it to Nationals.” Closing the bar on a weekend during hockey season was just too costly, but Karl and Sharon had promised they’d be watching it on TV. “And I couldn’t say no to Hera.”

The look on his face when her niece had begged to be lifted “like Auntie Kara”  _had_  been kinda priceless. But to Lee’s credit, he’d obligingly picked the girl up and held her just above his head, his grip tight on her waist, skating slowly and carefully for a few minutes. Kara hadn’t missed the way his hands shook when he’d lowered her back to the ice though. As the color had slowly seeped back into his face, she’d skated close and nudged him, murmuring, “Breathe, Leland. You didn’t break her.” Kara grinned now, remembering the relief on his face.

The whole week had been really good, actually. Not the party-all-night-sleep-all-day break she’d been anticipating, but marathon card games and making snow angels had proven to hold their own kind of charm. Kara hadn’t fully realized how much she’d missed them all.

She sighed a little, reaching down to rub her left calf. Lee caught the motion, and said, “Your leg’s bothering you, isn’t it? I knew you were pushing too hard to land the quad.” But despite the slightly accusatory note in his voice, he reached down and pulled her legs up onto his lap, strong fingers sinking into her protesting muscles.

Kara twisted, letting her head thunk back against the couch’s arm and her eyes flutter shut a little. “Mmm. Don’t care, s’worth it,” she mumbled. “I nailed it, didn’t I?”

She didn’t have to open her eyes. She could hear the smile in his voice plain as day when he said, “Yeah, you did.”

Grinning, she let her mind drift, enjoying the firm strokes of his thumbs along her calf. Fleetingly, Kara thought someday very soon she might regret not finding some hot hookup to let off a little steam with this weekend, but right now, she felt boneless and too content to care. Lee’s hands felt good on her skin, a little too good, and she dragged her mind out of dangerous corners and back to safe ground. “Coach is gonna flip when she sees our new moves.”

“Assuming she doesn’t flip about us blowing our diets and not exercising half as much as we should have,” Lee groaned. “I think I gained a pound a day.”

“Hey, we were on vacation,” Kara protested drowsily. “And we work hard. We deserve a week off.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure how much we deserved that dessert buffet thing you wanted to go to.”

The Langham Hotel’s chocolate buffet was legendary and Kara had never been before. Figured if she was gonna be a tourist, she might as well make the most of it and indulge her sweet tooth since it’d be lettuce and cucumbers for the next four months at least. It had so been worth it.

“I didn’t hear you complaining when you made—oh what was it?—  _six trips_  to the chocolate fountain!” she laughed, one eye opening to peer at him. “And that was after you ate, like, your entire body weight in noodles at Lucca.”

Lee pinched the soft flesh on the back of her knee and Kara shrieked, jumping, as he laughed. She grabbed the little pillow behind her head and tossed it at his face, but Lee caught it and shoved it behind his own head then stuck his tongue out at her, looking all of about fifteen. Kara just shook her head, unable to stop from grinning at this rare side of Lee, then resettled herself, digging her heels a bit harder into his thigh and waiting for him to resume the massage. He did, his hands tracing slower, more gentle circles on her legs now, and Kara sighed with contentment. Before she even realized it, her next thought was tumbling out of her mouth, “I really like you like this.”

It was hard to tell who froze first, but when Kara lifted her eyes, Lee was staring at her quizzically, one brow cocked in surprise. “Like what?”

She inhaled, swallowed hard and just stared at him, tongue-tied for a few merciless seconds before she recovered herself. “You know, my willing servant,” Kara nodded towards her legs, “Catering to my every whim. Next time, maybe you can fan me and feed me grapes too,” she smirked.

“Hmm,” he said, mildly. “And here I thought you were more of a beer nuts kind of girl.”

Kara shrugged. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m learning to appreciate the finer things in life. You’re a bad influence, Adama.” She winked.

Lee huffed a laugh. “I think that’s supposed to be my line.” He lifted his hands and stretched forward, grabbing the remote and clicking off the movie they both had given up watching.

The living room was cast into shadows without the light from the screen, but neither of them moved to flip on a light. Kara just settled back, eyes closing again, as fatigue pulled at her.  “Guess it’s back to the real world tomorrow.”

Lee’s response was heavy and almost wistful in the dark. “Guess so.”

Warm palms rested on her shins as the silence stretched again and Kara sunk closer to oblivion. She was on the cusp of sleep when his voice floated over her. “Hey, Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

Her lips curved; she didn’t need to ask what he was thanking her for. The quiet stretched, her limbs softening. Kara knew she should move, get up, go to bed, but she felt like her muscles had all but dissolved, fusing her to the couch. Lee didn’t seem to mind that she was hogging his bed. She could hear him shifting, felt his legs sliding against hers as he stretched out at the other end of the couch. His steady breathing was loud in the dark, and Kara concentrated on it, matching her own breaths to his rhythm. The last thought that slid through her brain before she drifted off was that Lee had been right.

This was much more comfortable than she’d expected. 


	6. Chapter 6

“You know, I think that might work a little better with your eyes  _open_.”

Kara fumbled with the lid of her coffee cup. “Oh shut it. It’s early okay? And we just had a week off! I forgot what it’s like to rise before the damn sun.” She grumbled in the general direction of Lee’s voice, then took a sip, the rich taste of the coffee prompting a loud sigh of pleasure. Kara opened her eyes wider to find Lee right in front of her, skating backwards, and eyeing her coffee with a distinctly proprietary gaze.

“I’m really not sure you should be skating with a hot liquid, Kara,” he said, his voice all innocence. “I mean, technically, you’re still a beginner, and if you lost control, someone could get hurt.”  He skated closer and, despite the butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth tone, there was a devilish gleam shining in those blue eyes. “So maybe you should hand it over…” Lee’s arm darted out quickly—too fast for Kara’s sleep-laden reflexes—plucked the coffee out of her hand and then skated away.

“Oh, you are just  _begging_  for a beatdown this morning, Adama!” Kara set off after him, fully awake now, powered by equal parts outrage and amusement. Lee was skating backwards still, sipping her coffee and mimicking her, making exaggerated noises of satisfaction. She made a mental note to rib him about that later, and took off. His deftness at skating backwards was no match for an aggressive Kara skating forward, and she caught up to him easily then pounced. 

Knocked off balance, both they and her coffee fell, spilling onto the ice, but Kara considered the drink a necessary casualty on her way to victory. Quickly, she clambered over and straddled his stomach, her thighs squeezing his hips and her hands flat on his chest. Lee let out an “oof” as she sank down on top of him, but he was still laughing. “Now,” she smirked, “it seems like you and me are gonna have to have a little talk about the rules.”

“Rules?” He wheezed, grinning, his hands resting on her knees.

“Yes, rules. Repeat after me: I will never, ever,” she lowered her face to his, emphasizing the words, “EVER try to steal Kara’s coffee again.”

A brow raised. “And if I refuse?”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” she shook her head slowly, trying to ignore the heat of his palms sliding higher on her thighs as she leaned forward.

Lee’s eyes were hooded, his voice husky. “Why not?”

Kara leaned closer, swallowing as she watched his tongue peek out and skim across his lips quickly. It took some willpower not to lean in and let her own do the same. She was having trouble remembering what her witty response was supposed to be. “Be-because…”

Suddenly the wide door to the rink slid open with a rusty squeal. Kara turned her head to the entry where Laura Roslin was striding through wearing a smile, “Good Morn—”she paused, raised an eyebrow, “ing.” Her gaze was questioning, as she sized them up and Kara suddenly became very aware that she was on her hands and knees, straddling Lee in the center of the rink. Quickly she scrambled upright, Lee following a second or so later. 

“Hey, Coach!” Kara cleared her throat and skated close to the perimeter of the rink where Laura was walking. “Welcome back. How was Vancouver?”

“Quite nice, thank you.” She turned to face them, her gaze still full of curiosity. “And I trust that you both had a lovely break as well and are now ready to get back to work.” Roslin’s tone was light. “I hope a week off hasn’t made you completely forget your routines.”

“Actually, Coach,” Lee said and coughed, “we, uh, did do some practicing in Boston-”

“Boston?” The coach frowned.

Kara coughed. “I took pity on little orphaned Leland here after he kept hinting that he’d be left all by his lonesome with no one to play with all week,” she clucked her tongue loudly, shaking her head. “He was practically begging. It was a little embarrassing really. ”

“What? Kara, I was not-” Then she winked at Lee, grinning, and he lost his bluster, shaking his head and knocking an elbow against hers.

“Anyway, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,” he said, “we came up with a few modifications we thought maybe we could add to the programs.”

Roslin’s eyes widened, as she crossed her arms over her chest, and Kara jumped in before she could protest. “Coach, these new moves? They’re gonna knock your socks off.” She smirked at Roslin. “Wanna see ‘em?”

The coach’s eyes were moving back and forth between her skaters and there was a bemused expression on her face. “By all means.”

Kara grinned and turned to Lee, cocking a brow as if to ask if he was ready. He inclined his head and she got into position. Quickly they ran through the new moves they’d come up with on break. The first was a twist on a death spiral, with Kara extended upside down, her head almost perpendicular to the ice, the only link between them her feet locked behind his head. The second  involved Lee skating in a sitting position with Kara's right blade squeezed between his knees, his hands supporting her right leg, while she stretched her left overhead in a Bielman hold. The last move, one they called the Phoenix, had Lee gliding sideways in a low crouch while Kara balanced, one knee on his back with her arms outstretched, before she flipped forward over his shoulder and he caught her and lowered her to the ice. They skated up in front of Roslin.

“Well,” the coach said with wide eyes, and a tone of surprise. “I have to say, that was very impressive. I can see the two of you have been working hard, and well together. I think we will indeed have to make some adjustments to your programs.” She raised a brow. “Any other surprises for me?”

Kara caught Lee’s eye and nodded, before turning back to Roslin. “Just one more, Coach. And this is the big one.”

“Alright, then, don’t keep me in suspense.” 

Side by side they skated, one long sweep of the ice, then as they turned into the setup for their quads, Lee stretched out his hand palm up and Kara reached out to brush her hand across his. It was a little thing they’d started doing before big jumps, sort of a cross between “good luck” and “let’s do this.” Silly as it seemed, it helped center her, in a way.

She took a breath and they sped up, then turned, gliding, gliding and she dug hard into the ice, launching simultaneously with Lee into the air. Kara twisted, arms and legs crossed tight through one, two, three…she squeezed tighter, pushing… FOUR revolutions and down. Her toe pick clawed into the ice and her blade followed, tilting slightly and making her wobble. Kara was forced to put her other foot down for balance and she cursed.

 They skated back over to Roslin who was watching with wide eyes, a hand covering her mouth. “You did it. You both landed the quad!”

Kara shook her head, still angry at herself for messing up. “I two-footed it. I should’ve had it.”

Lee skated up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. You got it clean before, out at the pond, remember? You’ll get it again.” Kara closed her eyes and nodded, taking a breath. When she opened them, Roslin was staring at them, a funny look on her face.

“Well, that must have been a heck of a week.” There was a curious edge to the coach’s voice and her gaze was searching, skipping from Kara to Lee and back again. Despite herself, Kara felt a flush rise in her cheeks. She felt like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and Lee must’ve felt the same because he dropped his hands and moved over to stand parallel with her. “You know, I’ve always said that the two of you have an uncanny connection out there on that ice, but this…. this was a whole new level.” Laura tapped a finger against her lips, her eyes scrutinizing them. “We need to use that.”

Lee looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we need to use this connection, this unmistakable chemistry the two of you have. We can build on that, tailor your routines around it, the music, the costumes...” Kara could practically hear the gears turning in Roslin’s head as she plotted. She looked uncertainly at Lee, who was watching the coach somewhat trepidatiously too. He caught her gaze and she raised her eyebrows; he shrugged his shoulders.  

“Uh, Coach, what exactly do you have in mind here?” Kara asked.

Roslin turned back to them. “Chemistry!” Her eyes sparkled. “Passion!” She leaned forward conspiratorily. “ _Sex_!”

Kara’s eyes went wide as saucers and next to her she could hear Lee coughing, as if a large hairball had suddenly got caught in his throat. “Whoa, Coach, uh, Laura, you know that we’re… we’re not…”

Roslin waved her hand dismissively. “I know that and you know that, but the audience doesn’t have to know that. It’s all about the illusion. That’s what people want.” She smiled beatifically at the two of them. “You just have to make them believe that you’re hopelessly, helplessly in love with one another.”

  _Right,_ Kara thought, a sinking feeling in her gut.  _Piece of cake._  

****

Practice was awkward. To say the least.

Roslin had them run through both the short and long routines multiple times, barking out orders for  _l_ _ingering eye contact_ , _please_ and _don’t grip, caress_. Lee would roll his eyes whenever Coach wasn’t looking their way, and Kara knew he was trying to make her relax, but she couldn’t. She was stiff and self-conscious, and it didn’t help that he seemed all too comfortable with the new direction.  It was like that all week, and on Friday, after six hours of looking deeply into Lee’s eyes and being hyperaware of every single touch, she was relieved when Roslin called the training to a close for the day. Kara trudged off the ice, Lee at her heels.

“Hey, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing’s up.” She ducked her head and dropped on to the bench to pull her boots off.

“Could’ve fooled me,” his expression was skeptical. “If you were any stiffer out there, I might’ve got a hernia on that last lift.”

He plopped down next to her and Kara had to force herself not to scoot away as his thigh banged into hers when he bent to unlace his skates.  _If she could just get a little distance…_

Lee was staring at her now, a quizzical look on his face. “All this romance stuff is really weirding you out, huh?”

She froze for a second, then tried to cover, shrugging, rolling her eyes. “Whatever, it’s just not my thing, that’s all.”

He let go of his laces and sat up to face her, a smirk dancing on his lips. “What’s not your thing? Love? Passion?” He lowered his voice, imitating the coach’s hushed exclamation.  _“Sex?”_

Kara pushed against his arm, shoving him back a little as Lee chuckled. “Shut up. It’s just,” she waved a hand vaguely at him. “All this touchy-feely, look in my eyes, crap. It’s weird. Don’t you think it’s weird?”

Lee just shrugged. “It’s a performance. You know, giving the audience what they want, like Coach said.”

Feeling foolish, Kara sighed and turned her attention to her skates, picking a knot out of the laces. “I guess you’re used to that. The only thing I had to worry about giving the audience when I played hockey was goals, and maybe a little blood on the ice.”

“Okay, that’s gross.”

“I almost said teeth.” She grinned a little, then looked at Lee. “So, did you have to do that with your old partners? Be…  _passionate_?”

He frowned. “Well, no, actually.” Lee tilted his head. “But it’s not so hard to pretend. I mean we’re adults, we’ve been in love before, right?”

Her eyes shifted, and Kara busied herself with her skate laces again, murmuring some noncommittal sound. 

“Kara?” He sounded incredulous, and then he started laughing. “Oh don’t tell me, you’ve never…”

“I don’t do relationships, okay?” She hissed. “I’m just….not one for that sentimental crap. When other little girls were imagining what they’d wear on their wedding day, I was picturing myself”— _escaping my mother_ , she thought fleetingly—“taking a victory lap with the Stanley Cup.”

 He scratched his head, looking at her curiously now. “So what’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had?”

Kara shrugged, growing weary of the topic and wishing she’d just waved her discomfort away as exhaustion. “I dunno, a month? Two, maybe?” She tugged off her skates and threw them in her cubby.

“That’s it?”

“I’ve dated people, alright? It never works out. The non-athletes always want to bitch about how much time I spend on the ice. And the athletes get tired of me beating their asses all the time.” She huffed a bitter laugh. “Either way, I don’t seem to make very good ‘girlfriend material.’ Most guys seem to get sick of me pretty quick.” She tossed her water bottle and towel into her duffel bag and Lee laid a hand on her arm.

She twisted around to find him staring at her. “Maybe you’ve just dated a lot of idiots, then.”

Kara shrugged, but she smiled. “Maybe.”  

He smiled back and minutes passed, until Kara suddenly became aware of a beeping sound coming from her duffel. She pulled out her cell phone, which was buzzing with a message that she had an email. Pressing a few buttons, Kara grinned, relieved to have something else to focus on and also by the message sender.

“Hey it’s Sharon. She sent me a link to something that we need to check out, she said.”

Kara clicked the link and a new window opened on her mobile screen. It was a Facebook page.

Lee was leaning over her shoulder, peering at the image and his voice was surprised and right in her ear. “She made us a fan page?”

Kara shook her head, and scrolled down. There was a picture of the two of them laughing on the pond from last week and a status update that read “Nationals or Bust!” Her eyebrows raised as she looked further down the page. “We have 110 fans?”

She quickly punched in a few buttons and waited patiently for the phone to ring on Sharon’s end.

“Got my message, huh?”

“I can’t believe you put that up without telling us.”

“I just told you! Besides you’ve gotta be smart about these things. Marketing’s important. You guys need a fan base going into the competition.” 

“What’d you strong-arm everyone in the bar into joining up? I’m surprised most of ’em even know how to type their own names!”

“Only a few people. The rest found it on their own. Hey, speaking of, you’ll never guess who sent a message to the inbox looking for you?”

She thought for a second, dismissed a crazy possibility, and came up blank. “Who?”

“Alex.”

“Alex from UB?”

“Yup. I wrote him back and told him I was moderating the site for you guys and you were training in Connecticut. AND he said he’ll be coming home for the holidays and he would loooove to meet up with you,” Sharon singsonged.

Kara grinned. She hadn’t seen Alex Quartararo since he’d transferred to Michigan State their junior year. They’d always gotten along great and he’d been a wicked flirt, but Kara hadn’t encouraged it to go any further. She’d had a rule about not messing aorund with her own team members.

“So are you gonna call him? I’m sending you his number.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Involuntarily, her glance skipped to Lee, who seemed very involved with slowly packing his duffle. “We’re kind of busy here, with practice and all.”

“Oh come on Kara. He’s hot. And you said there’s nothing going on with you and Lee. And you need to get laid. He’s only in town for a week, just your speed.”

Kara frowned, not because it wasn’t true, but because it hit a little close to home what with the current conversation. “Yeah, I dunno. Maybe. We’ll see.”

“And that sounds like a no.”

“It sounds like a maybe.”

“It sounds like someone is hopelessly pining for—“

“SHARON!”

She giggled. “Oops, gotta go, Hera’s gotten into the cookies again.  _Put that down, baby_! I’ll email you! Bye.”

The line clicked off abruptly and Kara stashed the phone in her duffle again, shaking her head. 

“How are they?”

“Good, I guess. She had to go. Hera was injesting sugar, heaven forbid,” she said, absently.

“So…who’s Alex?”

“Huh?” she said, snapping out of her thoughts, wondering if Lee suddenly had picked up talent for reading minds. “Oh, he’s a former teammate. Moved out west a couple years back but he’s spending the holidays with his family here in Connecticut. Wants to get together.”

“You gonna meet him?”

Kara shrugged. “Maybe.” She picked up her bag, refusing to think about why she was avoiding the prospect. “We’ll see. Things are pretty busy here. I have a prior commitment.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

“I do believe someone’s ass is just begging to be kicked in NHL 11.” She smirked. After the trip to the hospital, they’d decided any hockey rematches should be the virtual kind and they’d been battling it out on Lee’s Playstation off and on ever since. “You up for a game?”

“I, uh, can’t tonight.” He was blushing. “I have to call Gianne. We have a phone date.” He mumbled the last few words, like he expected Kara to make fun of him. Normally she would but she was too busy feeling disappointed. It was stupid, but she’d gotten used to having Lee to herself, sorta.

Kara mentally rolled her eyes at herself. First she wanted distance, now she was upset he wasn’t glued to her hip. She was losing it. “That’s cool. Whatever.”

She started walking towards the door, ignoring Lee falling into step beside her. “Hey, Kara, sorry. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. It’s no big deal. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of true love. I forget not everyone’s a cynic like me.” She winked. “Some of you actually like that relationship crap.”

He laughed, as she’d wanted him to, but later that night, when she cued up the game and clicked on “single-player mode,” her mind skipped back to Sharon’s phone call. Was she pining? Because that would be seriously pathetic. Just because she didn’t automatically jump at the chance to go on a date—a date with a hot, funny guy that she already liked—didn’t mean anything, right?

Kara sighed and clicked the start button. See, relationships, even when you hadn’t even begun to have them, were messy. She focused on the game, vowing to think of nothing but the platonic kind of scoring for the rest of the night.

*****

“Lee! Hey, I wanted to ask—” Kara’s mouth fell open, words skittering away as she strode through the doorway to Lee’s bedroom.

“GOD! Kara! Don’t you ever knock?!” The late afternoon sun outlined his body as Lee turned from the window, his hands clutching the towel draped precariously low on his hips. Beads of water still clung to his skin, as she’d obviously caught him in the act of drying off. Why he’d thought doing that in front of his window was beyond her, but Kara wasn’t about to complain. In fact she was having a hard time tearing her eyes from his body. She’d seen Lee with his shirt off before, but this was…her gaze slid down over the cut muscles of his stomach and hips… _more_.

Still, she wasn’t about to swoon like a friggin’ schoolgirl. So she slapped a grin on and shrugged, meeting his eyes. “C’mon Adama, like you’ve got something I haven’t seen before?”

He tightened his towel, frowning. “You wanted something, Kara?”

“Right. I was hoping I could catch a ride into town to the post office?” She smiled, hopefully. “I’ve got a box of gifts to send home.” She was cutting it close. Christmas was in less than a week. Maybe she should put a note in about Santa’s reindeer getting fat and lazy from all the holiday cookies.

“Yeah, sure. Just give me five minutes to get dressed.” He turned, grabbed some clothes and walked into the bathroom, closing the door almost all the way behind him. Almost. Kara sat down on the bed to wait. She’d never been up here before. It was nice, fancy. Her gaze swept the room and only strayed a few times to the crack in the door.

“Hey, you’re leaving it kind of late, aren’t you?” Lee called and Kara rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, you know me. I like to live on the edge and all.” She said, toying with a loose string on the bedspread. It was a shiny dark purple satin. Kara’s eyebrows raised. Wasn’t quite what she’d consider Lee’s style. On a hunch, she flipped the bedcover up and ran a hand over the matching sheets. Her eyebrows raised even higher.

“So there’s a good reason you’re caressing my sheets, right?” She froze then smirked, and turned to Lee who was now just a foot away, tugging a sweatshirt down his torso and grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

She deflected. “Silk sheets, Leland? Kinky,” she murmured, getting to her feet. “Figured you’d be more of a flannel man.”

He stepped closer, and suddenly she realized he was awfully close. “Mmm,” he nodded, then tilted his head, “Well, maybe I’m full of surprises.”

Kara swallowed hard, under the heat of his gaze. “Maybe.” The moment stretched, their gazes locked again, before Kara finally looked away, slugging his shoulder. “Uh, for now though, why don’t you surprise me with how fast you can move, huh? I need to make sure this gets in the mail today.”

He plopped down on the bed to pull on a pair of socks. “I don’t know why you waited so long. They should be getting mine today.”

Kara raised her head. “You sent a gift? You didn’t have to do that. But why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve sent them all together in the same box.”

To her surprise, Lee flushed and suddenly looked incredibly interested in his shoelaces. “I don’t really think it would have fit actually.”

Suspicions alerted, Kara raised a brow. “What did you send them?”

Lee’s head ducked lower over his boots and he mumbled something barely intelligible.

“What was that?”

He looked up finally, his expression sheepish. “A new boiler.”

Kara’s mouth dropped open for the second time. “Wh-What? You What?!”

“I just thought—”

“Lee! Are you crazy? That’s—that’s way too much!”

He dropped his shoe and stood up. “Hey, I wanted to do it, okay? It was a thank you. For their hospitality.”

“A thank you?! Lee, a thank you is a box of chocolates or a bouquet of flowers! It’s not a new fucking boiler!” Kara cried, dimly aware that she was somewhat freaking out about this. “That’s  a bit excessive for being put up on a crappy sprung couch for a week.” She crossed her arms, frowning at him. “No, you're taking it back!"

“What? I’m not taking it back, Kara.” He grimaced. “Why are you flipping out on me?”

Kara clenched her jaw. “I can take care of my own family, Lee. You don’t need to ride to our rescue, like some friggin’ white knight. We don’t need your pity!” she hissed.

“You don’t have it!” He yelled, then rubbed his brow. “Look, I heard Karl and Sharon talking, alright? I don’t know if they forgot I was there, or thought I was sleeping, or what, but they were saying they were going to have to use the money they’d saved for Hera. They couldn’t afford the speech therapist and a new boiler, and they didn’t think the old one would last the winter.”

Kara listened, her anger fading as shock took over. Why hadn’t Karl told her? Damn his pride.

Lee grasped her shoulders gently. “They shouldn’t have to make that choice, Kara. Not when I can help. And I wanted to.” His fingers squeezed her flesh. “Besides, it’s for Hera,” he said, lightly. “What am I, made of stone?”

She bit her lip, torn for a few moments. Damn. “Okay, but I’m paying you back.”

“Pay me back in gold.” He smiled then, the kind that lit up his whole face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Medals.”

She smiled back. “Thank you,” she said, softly. Kara still couldn’t believe he’d done that, for her family like it was nothing. Gratitude swelled her heart suddenly, and Kara felt overcome with emotion as she looked up at Lee. She could hug him. She could kiss him. She was already leaning in to do one or both of those things, when he squeezed her shoulders again.

“Hey, what are friends for, right?”

Kara stiffened then shifted back, nodding almost manically. Friends, right. He had a girlfriend. And she… she had to stop being such a headcase. God, what was wrong with her? This was Lee. Her friend. Nothing more.

“Kara?” He was staring at her with something close to concern on his face now as he slid his shoes on. “We should probably get going if you want to make that last pickup.”

She nodded. “Right. Uh is it okay if I use your bathroom first? I’ll be quick.”

“Sure,” He said, waving a hand in the general direction of the door. “ _Mi casa es su casa_  and all that.”

Kara ducked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, leaning against it and closing her eyes for a moment. Then she opened them and reached into her back pocket, fishing out her cell phone. She punched in a number and waited for an answer.

“Alex? Hey. It’s Kara, Kara Thrace.”


	7. Chapter 7

"Tempting. Very, very tempting."      
  


Kara smiled at the man sitting across from her in the tiny French bistro. Her gaze swept over high cheekbones, warm eyes, and a smile bracketed by extremely sexy dimples.

She sighed. "But I have to pass.".

“C'mon," Alex wheedled. "One little piece?"

"Hey, your ass doesn't have to squeeze into a leotard and skate in front of thousands of people in three weeks."

“I don’t know. It was looking pretty good to me,” he smirked. "Besides, it's cheesecake! That's practically all protein."

Kara laughed. “Twist my arm, already, why don’t you? Fine. Fine." 

Over dessert, Alex started telling her a funny story about his last game (he’d been drafted last year as a goalie for the Grand Rapids Griffins), but Kara’s mind started to wander a little. She thought about the last time she ate dessert, in Boston, at the chocolate buffet. Lee grinning as she teased him about not being able to take him out in public because he’d managed to get stains all over his shirt from the chocolate fountain.  

“And then he said… I am boring the crap out of you, aren’t I?” Kara started, finding Alex’s expectant gaze fixed on her.

She grimaced. “No, no! Sorry, I’m just—” Kara shook her head. What was wrong with her? Alex was every bit the charming, funny, easygoing guy she remembered. She was having a really good time. “It’s been kind of a long week. Please, finish.”

“Nah, it’s my fault. You probably don’t want to sit here and talk hockey all night, especially after…” He gestured to her eye and cleared his throat. “Anyway you’ve got a whole new career now. Ice skater, huh? And you’re going to the Olympics?”

“If we can place in the top three at Nationals,” she said, nodding.

Alex grinned, reclining easily in his chair and shaking his head. “Look at you. You know, it’s almost hard to believe you’re the same smash ’em bash ’em star Buc’ I used to know.”

“Really?”

“Yup, I mean, if I’d just passed you on the street, well, the long hair and the skirt alone would probably fool me,” he smiled. “But you’ve also got this different attitude. You seem, I don’t know… calmer, maybe? More mature.”

Kara chuckled. “Mature? Really? My skating partner would probably beg to differ.”

Alex’s eyebrows raised. “Ah, right, the tenacious Lee.”

Embarassment prickled through her. “Uh, I guess I’ve mentioned him?”

He shrugged. “Only half a dozen times or so.”

“Right.” Kara could feel her face heat and she reached for her wineglass, finishing off the last of her drink. She spent almost every waking hour with the guy, it was only natural that his name come up once in a while, she told herself. It’s not like she had any stories without him in them anymore. Still, irritation at herself flickered through her.

“You know what? No more shop talk. Tell me more about you.” She grinned and let her eyes slide down Alex’s body in an obvious once over. “You know, I’m not the only one who’s changed. What happened to that scrawny stick jockey who used to block all my fancy shots, huh?” Kara winked. “Guess Michigan agrees with you.”

He laughed and playfully flexed a not-unimpressive bicep. “A friend of mine owns a video game company. He asked me to come in and do all these movements for one of the characters in this superhero game they’re putting out. I had to bulk up and get some sword training. That was a pretty cool experience, actually.”

Kara was intrigued and that topic reigned as they finished dinner, left the restaurant and made their way back to the carriage house. When they pulled up the long drive of the estate, Alex turned the engine off and got out, moving around to open Kara’s door.

She got out smiling, touched by the small act of chivalry. Kara couldn’t remember the last time a guy opened a door for her on a date. Actually, she couldn’t remember the last time she went on a date. Normally, when she was interested in a guy, she made her interest clear and things pretty much went directly from bar to bed, do not pass go, do not collect $200. All this foreplay stuff had always seemed like a waste of time before. But she had to admit, this was  _nice_.

Alex was smiling too, as he shut the door next to her, one hand on the hood, and leaned closer to her. “It’s great to see you again, Kara.” His voice was low, husky, and she felt a little thrill shoot up her spine.

Kara nodded and took a breath. “You too.” Dark, chocolate brown eyes focused on her intently, Alex’s gaze dipping to her mouth as he moved closer, and Kara knew he was going to kiss her. His lips were warm on her own, his mouth tasting of coffee, and the trickle of arousal grew into a full-on flame.

It’d been ages since someone had kissed her, and Alex Quartararo was a good kisser. She felt herself give in to the moment, her lips parting against his, her hands sliding up his shoulders to stroke higher from the nape of his neck. But instead of soft, thick hair, her fingers ran over the peach fuzz at the back of his skull. It pulled her out of the moment long enough for her to realize that, of course, Alex had a buzzcut— he wouldn’t have hair to run her fingers through.

Long enough for her to realize who did.

Cursing inwardly, she pulled back, breaking the kiss. Long lashes fluttered upwards and Alex blinked at her in surprise, then with a touch of chagrin. “Uh, sorry, too much, too fast?”

Kara bit her lip and shook her head. “No. I—Alex, you’re a really nice guy…”

He winced, and slowly lifted a hand from her waist to clutch his chest.  “Ohh, the kiss of death.”

She laughed softly. “God, I’m sorry. I’m just—” Kara took a breath. “My head’s all over the place right now. It’s not fair to you.”

He nodded slowly, almost like he’d been expecting something like this. “I guess you’ve got a lot on your mind, huh?” She looked at him in surprise. “I mean, with your big competition coming up and all.”

She shifted, aware that wasn’t the whole truth. “Kinda.”

“Look, Kara, I like you. Always have. And I’m only home for a week.” His face broke into an easy grin. “We could just have fun. See what happens.”

It was the perfect arrangement. Just the way Kara liked it. So why couldn’t she make her mouth say yes? “Alex…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“Hey, I get it,” he said, his hands lifting as he leaned back. “No romance. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still hang out, just as friends, right? Because I love my family, but man, if I have to play one more game of Pictionary? I’m gonna go nuts.”  He clasped his hands together, bending his knees slightly. “Save me, Kara Thrace. You’re my only hope.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Kara grinned, her smile softening a few seconds later. Another guy could’ve made this awkward. Been a real jerk about it. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that, right?”

He shrugged, dimples flashing. “Well, I  _am_  a part-time superhero.”

She punched his shoulder playfully, and he laughed, and they made plans to get together the next night before he drove away. Kara was still grinning when she let herself into the darkened carriage house.

“Have a good time?”

She jumped. Lee was sitting on the couch, a controller clutched in his hands.

“Jesus! What are you doing here—” her gaze darted to the clock “—at one in the morning?” she whispered, not wanting to wake Laura up.

He arched an eyebrow. “I guess it is a little late to be out, considering we have practice in a few hours.” Lee’s voice was cold and there was something accusatory in his tone that dampened Kara’s good mood a little. She ignored it, and moved over to the sofa, propping a foot on the cushion and reaching down to unzip the heeled dress boots that had been pinching her toes all night.

“I don’t remember seeing you wear that before.” Kara twisted her head to find Lee staring, his eyes wide as he tracked the motion of her hand tugging the zipper down her calf. Hastily she yanked both loosened boots off and straightened, tugging at her skirt.

“It’s new.” She’d bought it as a belated gift to herself at the after-Christmas sales.

“I hope you didn’t pay a lot.” Lee made a face, and she crossed her arms in front of her, uncomfortable and self-conscious now, as well as a little peeved at Mr. Crankypants.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“The manufacturer seems to have forgotten the rest of it.” His gaze was pointed and leveled at the—okay, somewhat plunging—neckline of her black satin top. “Buttons too.”

Kara flushed. “Hey, I’ve got a big brother, thank you very much, and he was in Boston the last time I checked.”

Lee just turned his gaze back to the TV and said, “So did you have a good time?”

“Yes,” she said, as she padded over to the kitchen fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “Alex is a good guy. You’d probably like him. He’s easy to talk to.” She opened the water and took a long swallow.

He sniffed. “What could I possibly have to talk about with a minor league hockey goalie from Michigan?”

“Well, he’s also—” Kara paused, confusion making her brow crease. “Hey, how’d you know he’s a goalie?”

It took him a beat too long to respond. “You must have said it.”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

“Maybe Sharon then…”

Kara thought back. “She didn’t mention that in any of the emails.”

Lee mumbled something, still not tearing his eyes from the television.

“What was that?”

He cleared his throat, gaze still averted. “I might have Googled him.”

Kara stared at him in surprise. “You Googled my date?!”

Lee turned at that, frowning as he clicked off the game and walked over to where she stood at the kitchen counter.

“You said you hadn’t seen him in a few years. I just thought it was a good idea to check this guy out.” He took the water bottle out of her hand and downed a swallow. “I’ve seen this happen, you know. You get a little bit of fame and people start coming out of the woodwork.”

Kara laughed, not sure whether she should be flattered or irritated. “So, you think, what? This is all some ruse Alex cooked up to….to use me for some kind of nefarious plot or something?”

“All I’m saying is that you can never be too careful about people’s motives.” He shook his head. “I know, you’re probably not used to dealing with these kinds of situations, but my father and I have actually experienced this quite a bit. These so-called old friends and acquaintances suddenly get curious and they come around and sniff that there’s money, and they try any way possible to get into your good graces.”

“Riiight,” Kara said, stretching out the vowels, anger definitively coursing through her now. “Because it would be impossible for Alex to have any actual interest in me. No, of course not, he’s just using me to get the blueprints to the Adama family vault!” Furious, Kara was almost yelling now, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Whoa,” he said, holding up his hands, “I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“Could have fooled me. And trust me, Lee,” she said, swiping her water bottle back from his hand and grinning sharply into his face, “it’s not my _graces_  he wants to get into.”

His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping in his cheek as he forced a tight smile. “So, I take it you’re going to see him again?”

If Lee hadn’t been acting like such a total prick, she might have told him that they were just friends. That Alex had wanted more but Kara hadn’t. That she couldn’t. But adrenaline and aggravation were still sizzling in her blood and there was no frigging way she was going to give Lee the upper hand here.

“Of course. He’s in town all week.”

Lee frowned. “You know our practices right now are crucial, right? You’re already having trouble with the new program changes. Do you really think another distraction is what you need right now?”

“YES,” Kara snapped, fed up. “Yes, Lee, I think this distraction is  _exactly_  what I need right now. Hey, I’m sure Alex would be happy to help me with all that romantic crap. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even be able to relax about it if I’m actually getting some on a regular basis. Think of that!” She narrowed her eyes, going in for the kill. “Then again, it hasn’t seemed to work out for you so much. Guess rubbing one out to some cross-Atlantic heavy breathing isn’t quite getting it done, huh,  _Leland_?” 

His face tightened all over, the air between them practically humming with tension, and Kara waited, breath held, as she wondered what he would do. Kill her? Kiss her?

He did neither. Simply turned away and strode to the door, exiting and letting it slam behind him.

Kara’s head dropped and the frustration seethed through her. Goddamnit! She kicked out automatically, slamming her bare foot into a metal wastebasket beneath the kitchen island and she cursed, hopping around and massaging her toes for a few minutes.

While she was hunched over, rubbing sensation back into her poor foot, Laura’s door opened and the coach padded out, through the hall and into the kitchen, pulling a glass from one of the cupboards.

Kara grimaced. “Sorry, Coach, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I may be old, but my hearing isn’t quite gone yet. And you and Lee… well, I think a herd of water buffalo might be quieter.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara said again, perching a hip on one of the chairs surrounding the island. “I just—what the hell was that?” She gestured to the door. “The frigging Spanish Inquisition?!”  

Laura smiled as she filled the glass under the tap. “He was worried about you.”

“I went on a date, not a mission to scale Everest! My God, he’s so frustrating.”

“Well, yes, Lee can be very challenging. He was deeply hurt by his mother’s abandonment and his father—” Laura paused and frowned, her eyes rolling slightly. “Well, let’s just say Bill Adama isn’t the most emotionally available man in the world.” She shuffled over to the island and sat down across from Kara, staring at her with sympathy.  

“But he’s also  _changing_.” Sincere eyes gazed at Kara. “I can’t tell you how many skaters we went through before you came here. And the Lee Adama who steps onto the ice every day now is not the humorless, angry young man I used to coach.”

She shook her head, remembering, but then smiled. “The two of you… you have something together that is incredibly special. He trusts you.”

Kara felt herself soften at the coach’s insistence, but she shook her head. “Really? Because that didn’t sound like trust to me. Checking Alex out online, giving me grief about what I’m wearing and what time I’m getting home. That sounded a hell of a lot like the smug, judgmental ass he was when I got here.”

Laura chuckled softly. “Change is difficult. It’s not an overnight process.” She shot Kara a knowing look. “Is it?”

Why did Coach have to be so reasonable? Kara wasn’t ready to come around just yet. “Well, he better start by dropping the big brother routine,” she grumbled.” I’m not his little sister.”

“No, you’re  _not_ his sister.”

The words were spoken with unmistakable intent and Kara stiffened uncomfortably. “I just don’t see where he gets off dictating my social life, when he has a girlfriend—”

“Who is thousands of miles away.” Laura finished. “While you’re here, every day. Skating with him. Listening to him. Laughing with him.”

Kara swallowed hard, feeling uncomfortably exposed suddenly and unsure of what the skating coach was trying to imply. “I just…” she sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know what he wants from me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I imagine he might be just as confused and angry at himself as you are right now.” Laura said, softly. “The two of you spend more time together than most friends. Than most siblings. Than most couples. It can become very tricky to navigate that sort of relationship. Sometimes lines get crossed.”

The older woman reached across the Formica and laid a hand over Kara’s, patting it. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m sure this will all work itself out. And we have practice in a few hours.” Laura went to put her glass in the sink, before heading towards the hall.

“Wait! Coach?” Laura stopped and turned. “Why are you here?”

The woman looked at her in confusion.

“I mean, all these years,” Kara said. “The Old Man told me you were the best. You could go anywhere, do anything.” She surveyed Laura quizzically. “Why’d you stay?”

The other woman paused and Kara thought maybe she wasn’t going to answer at first. “I didn’t intend to at first. But I liked the challenge, the people…” she shrugged gently, her face looking almost guilty as she said the next words softly. “I fell in love.”

The look and the tone made it clear to Kara she wasn’t talking about the private ice rink. God, the Old Man was kind of an idiot. She suspected maybe that trait ran in the family. And Laura, god bless her, had been working here for  _years_.

“Coach? All this time, how...” Kara stumbled over the words, frowning as she tried to pick them carefully. “How do you keep your…lines from getting crossed?”

Her face was rueful, but her voice was strong. “By remembering that I have a job to do. A job I love. And not letting anything interfere with that.” Laura paused like she was debating saying more. But when she spoke again, she only said, “Goodnight, Kara.”

Kara watched her go into her bedroom and close the door, letting her head slump down to rest on her arms on the countertop. She had a headache now, her brain buzzing with too much to think about, too many possibilities to consider. Kara sighed. Maybe Laura had the answer. The job was what was important. She would focus on skating. And let the rest of it just fall away.

She only hoped it wasn’t easier said than done.

****

As it turned out, for the first time since Kara had met the woman, Laura Roslin was wrong.

It didn’t blow over or work itself out. Kara had walked into the rink the morning after the tiff, with an apology hovering on her lips. Lee’d been the one to blow things all out of proportion, but she’d crossed a line too, her words harsher than necessary. When she’d met him on the ice however, she got only a cold stare and a curt nod in greeting, before he immediately turned his back and resumed his warm-ups. Kara had felt flush with embarrassment, foolish for even have considered apologizing, and she let her own injured dignity boil over to flare her temper. It was a point of pride that neither would back down, and soon they were in a stalemate, speaking infrequently in a coldly civil tone to one another. An invisible barrier—polite but impenetrable—cropped up between them.

Lee stopped coming by the carriage house. There were no more coffee runs or virtual hockey matches, and definitely no teasing takedowns. And if Kara missed the way it used to be, well, at least she had Alex. They went out every night that week, a more-than-pleasant distraction from the situation with Lee that she resolutely pushed out of her brain.

Thankfully, with only two weeks to Nationals, there were plenty of other things to focus on. Music was chosen, costumes were fitted (Kara overruled half a dozen dresses covered in fripperies and lace before she and Laura and the seamstress could agree.). Coach worked them harder on the routines than ever before, and Kara was determined to hit every intense stare, every clutch and caress, just as directed. Pretending wasn’t so hard if Kara kept imagining herself standing triumphant on the podium at the Games, the anthem blazing. It was a goal, and she’d always been good at chasing those. And if their vibe was a bit more aggressive than romantic, Laura didn’t complain.

Late on their last morning of practice, Coach clapped her hands together and called them to the center ice.  She looked thoughtful for a moment before turning a scrutinizing stare on them, and Kara felt anxious suddenly.

 “Well, technically, I’d say we’re at 100 percent.” The coach paused, tilted her head a little, frowning slightly.

“And artistically?” Lee asked.

She paused. “Maybe 95 percent.” Kara felt alarm settle in her chest. They had to be the best, no wiggle room, if they even wanted a chance at getting into the top three.  She looked to Lee, who, for once, was looking back. He looked as guilty as she felt.

“Coach,” she said, “we can stay longer, practice harder—”

“No. No, I think maybe we’ve all been working too hard,” Laura shook her head. “You both know these routines forwards and backwards. It won’t do us any good to obsess and burn ourselves out going over them any more.” She waved her hands dismissively and smiled at them. “We just have to trust that when you step onto that ice tomorrow night, you’ll have it. You already have everything you need.” 

She stepped forward, placing a hand on both of their backs. “Now, I believe that you have to go pick up your girlfriend” she said to Lee. Gianne was flying in to go to Nationals of course. “And we,” she said to Kara, “have to go get ourselves gussied up for our dinner this evening.”

Bill had insisted on taking them all out for a quiet, celebratory dinner before they left for the competition tomorrow morning. Kara didn’t relish the idea of being a fifth wheel, but she couldn’t see any way to gracefully bow out of the dinner. That’s how, four hours later, she found herself sitting at an elegant table in a private room in one of the nicest restaurants in Greenwich. If the company was slightly awkward, the food, at least, was to die for. After the waiter came and cleared their plates, Bill raised his glass.

“Well, it’s been a long hard road, but tomorrow we’re going to the National championships and then it’s on to the Olympics. I just wanted to say a few words to each of you.” He turned to the Coach seated on his left. “Laura, without your dedication and your talent and your incredible patience, none of this would have been possible. You’re a miracle maker and we’d be lost without you.”

Kara couldn’t help but grin as she watched her normally unflappable coach giggle and blush like a schoolgirl at the Old Man. Across from her, Lee was watching them with a bit of a smirk as well, and when he turned slightly and caught her eye, his grin widened and he waggled his eyebrows as if to say “get a load of them.” It was the first sign of anything other than polite nonchalance she’d seen from him in nearly two weeks, and again Kara couldn’t hide an easy grin.

“To you, Kara,” Bill said, raising his glass higher again. “If Laura is our miracle worker, then you are definitely our miracle.” He reached out and smoothed her hair, gently tucking some loose strands behind her ear. The simple motion made a lump form in Kara’s throat. “This past year, I’ve had the pleasure of watching you grow into a beautiful figure skater. ” He paused. “I wasn’t blessed with daughters, but now, after all these years, I feel like I have one.”

Kara’s eyes stung with tears at the sweet simple words and she couldn’t speak for a few seconds. Smiling, she finally murmured, “Thanks, boss.”

Bill turned to Lee finally, clapping a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Son, I know we’ve had our differences, but I’ve always wanted the best for you. Tomorrow you’ll win and make me proud. And we’ll be on our way back to the Olympics.  Maybe this time we’ll fill that glass case, hmm?”

Kara watched Lee’s face, as his brow creased momentarily and then cleared, giving way to a strained smile. “Yes, sir.”

Oblivious, Bill just nodded and raised his glass high. “To success!”

They all clinked glasses and began talking at once, chattering about their chances. Kara relaxed in her chair, feeling the tension of the past two weeks drain away. Things were good. They would go to Chicago tomorrow and they would kick a little ass and everything would be fine. She smiled, feeling lighter suddenly.

“Excuse me, everyone,” Gianne interjected the general chatter, clinking her fork against her water glass (like Lee, she’d passed on the wine) and smiling broadly. “Since we’re celebrating things—”

“Gianne—” Lee hissed suddenly, and Kara looked at him curiously.

His girlfriend patted his hand absently but didn’t look at Lee as she continued speaking, “We also have some wonderful news we wanted to share with you all.”

“I thought we agreed to wait—”

“Honey, it’s fine, I just want to share our good news with your family and friends.”

She was smiling at them all like a cat who’d eaten some delicious cream. Although more likely it’d be no-fat, non-dairy, vegan cream.  A little shiver of trepidation curled up Kara’s spine suddenly, her eyebrows raised, as she watched them, Gianne looking pleased as punch, Lee staring fixedly at his girlfriend, looking slightly peeved. He tried to interject again. “Gianne, I really don’t think that now—”

“Leland and I are getting married!”

Silence followed her announcement and Kara just stared at Gianne, shock overwhelming her. She could feel Lee’s gaze on her, burning through her, but Kara didn’t meet his eyes. Her chest felt tight suddenly, like the air was slowly being sucked out of the room. It felt just the same as the few times she got the wind knocked out of her during a game. Her heartbeat rushed loudly in her ears. Bill and Laura both started congratulating them at once, a flurry of well wishes, hugs and kisses. And then suddenly it seemed as though everyone was looking to her and Kara struggled to speak. “That’s…wow, that’s great. Really…great.”

The words sounded fake and hollow to her own ears, so she just smiled lamely and took another big gulp from her wine glass. Laura filled the silence, asking about dresses and dates and other details. Dimly, Kara heard Lee saying something about them having a lot to talk about first, as she stared at the tablecloth. She bit down hard on her own lip, nearly drawing blood. It was the only way to stop herself from shouting at Lee about what a huge mistake he was making. The conversation turned back to weddings, Bill asking if they’d like to have the reception at the house, and Kara couldn’t just sit there listening anymore.

“So this has been really…uh… Thank you,” she said looking at Bill and getting to her feet. “But I think I’m gonna head back to the house.”

Noises of surprise and concern echoed around the table. “We haven’t even had dessert,” Lee said, smiling at her. “They make a mean chocolate cake here. We could split it? I promise not to eat all the whipped cream this time.”

Where the hell was this guy all week? Kara wondered before she realized that, of course, he’d be in a good mood  _now_. He was getting married. Her throat went dry and she couldn’t speak.

Lee’s face changed as her silence stretched, his gaze beseeching and intense, as if he was trying to telegraph some message to her. “Stay.  _Please_.” 

“I- I can’t.”  She let out the breath she’d been holding, struggling for composure. “My stomach’s acting up, actually.” She mustered a smile. “But you should get it. Split it with your fiancée.” Her gut flipped, making her fib a little less of a lie.

“Oh, I don’t eat chocolate,” Gianne said blithely.

 _Right. Of course._

“Kara, you don’t think it’s food poisoning, do you?”  Bill said, concerned.

“No, no, it’s just  nausea. Probably my nerves acting up early, you know? Big day tomorrow.”

“You’re sure? Because you need to be in top form to skate.” The older man frowned. “Should I call a doctor, or we could get the check now and take you—”

“Boss, I’ll be fine,” she said, impatiently, feeling like she might burst if she didn’t get out of the room soon. “I’ll grab a cab. The rest of you should stay. Enjoy yourselves.”

Bill still looked troubled. “I don’t think—“

Laura laid a hand on his arm, arresting him. “Bill, I’m sure Kara will be fine for tomorrow.” Her eyes caught her pupil’s and her lips curved with empathy. “Probably something just didn’t agree with her.”

Kara nodded and swallowed hard, torn between relief and dread as her eyes met the coach’s incisive gaze. It was clear that Laura knew  _exactly_  what hadn’t agreed with her.   

“Well, if you’re sure,” Bill’s frowning countenance softened slightly. “But a cab isn’t necessary. I’m calling Mr. Hoshi to pick you up.” He reached for his cell phone.

“Okay,” she nodded, willing to agree to anything at this point. “I’ll wait outside for him, get some fresh air.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Lee said, starting to stand.

“No!  You should stay.” The words came out harsh and she forced another smile. “It’s your night.” His brow was creasing just like it always did when she said something that confused him or pissed him off, and it was so familiar and so  _Lee_  and it made Kara’s chest ache again, so she shifted her focus to Gianne, meeting the woman’s even gaze. “Congratulations,” she said softly, her gaze drifting inexorably back to Lee for a second. “He’s a keeper.”

The sentiment used up the rest of her good will and Kara pivoted and headed for the exit, walking straight through the restaurant and out to the curb, her eyes scanning the road for the Adamas’ driver. When her eyes started to tear, it was easy to blame it on the sharp January wind. Kara crossed her arms over her chest, hands rubbing her biceps as she realized she’d left her checked coat inside. Fuck. There was no way she was going back in there to get it.  

Not a minute later, she heard footsteps echoing on the brick walkway behind her. She recognized them, of course. Kara swiped a wrist across her eyes and swore quietly. Why couldn’t he just leave it alone?

“Kara…”

She turned, heaving a sigh. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be inside gorging yourself on cake?”

He lifted a hand clutching fabric. “You left your coat.” Lee stepped forward, close enough that his chest brushed her arms and Kara nearly flinched. Unaware or maybe just undaunted, he reached around, arms encircling her for a brief moment as he wrapped the coat around her shoulders.

Kara swallowed. “Thanks.”

“Wouldn’t want you to freeze.”  Lee murmured the words, as he pulled the lapels tightly together to keep her warm. She expected him to let go; he didn’t.

“Right.” Kara forced herself to step back. “You should go back to your  _fiancée_ ,” she said. 

The tips of his ears reddened, either from the cold or because he had the good grace to look embarrassed finally. “Kara, I know this engagement probably came as a bit of a surprise…”

“Oh, just a bit.” She said, craning her neck to check the street for the Adamas’ car, which was nowhere in sight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Honestly, it all happened very fast. When I picked up Gianne this afternoon, she said we needed to—

Kara held up a hand to stop the stream of words. “Spare me the gory details, okay? You don’t owe me any explanations.”

He frowned again. “Still, it wasn’t really the best time, especially since things have been so…” Lee shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure the air was clear between us, you know?” He paused, clearing his throat. “I don’t want anything to affect our skating tomorrow.”

 Of course. Everything was about skating. That was the only thing that mattered. The only thing he wanted from her. Kara felt so incredibly tired, suddenly.

“What happens off the ice, stays off the ice, remember?” She sighed and closed her eyes, not wanting to look at him anymore. “Go inside, Lee.”

“I will, I just… I need to make sure first.” His reached out and squeezed her arms, and she realized he was not going away and reluctantly opened her eyes. “Kara, are we okay?”

She swallowed hard. How the hell was she supposed to answer that?

 _No, Lee._

 _No, we are not okay._

 _No, I am not fine with this engagement._

 _No, because… because…_

 _Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you._

The thought alone rocked Kara, and for one awful, horrible moment, she thought she’d said it aloud. But Lee was still staring expectantly,studying her with his serious face, eyes wide with doubt. Was it true? Had she been lying to herself all the times she’d told herself it was nothing? All those times when his touch made her shiver? All the times she’d said they were just partners, just friends? Her stomach dropped as the realization hit her. 

It was true. She had fallen in love with Lee Adama.

For a brief, shining second, Kara wondered what would happen if she  _did_  say it out loud, just laid it all on the line to see what he might say, what he might do. But she dismissed it immediately as an incredibly bad idea. It was too late. He was getting married. Besides, the other things were still true. He  _was_  her partner and he  _was_  her friend, and if she took a gamble and lost… No. There was too much at stake. Too much to lose.  

She looked at Lee, staring hard, scrutinizing his expression. “Are you happy?” Kara heard herself asking instead. “This is what you want, Lee? The engagement?” Her voice trembled a little. “The rest of your life?”

His brow creased and Lee almost looked pained as he stared back at her, his mouth falling open soundlessly. Kara studied his face, watching as he sucked in the cold air, his chin shuddering with the motion.  She was holding her own breath, waiting for a nod, a response, a sign of… _something_ , but none came. Lee didn’t speak.

Kara supposed that was answer enough.

As if on cue, Bill’s driver pulled up to the curb and climbed out, walking around the car and swinging open the door for Kara. She paused just a beat, willing Lee with her eyes to say something, anything.

Nothing.

She turned, nodded to Mr. Hoshi and slid into the car without looking back. Kara stared straight ahead. Despite her impaired peripheral vision and the tinted glass of the window, she could still see Lee standing there on the curb, head bowed and unmoving, even as the car pulled away.

*****

Kara closed her eyes and started again. 1…2…3…4… By the time she reached 10, all the cute fluffy white sheep she was trying to count for the umpteenth time had run for the hills. 

Damn. She rolled over and looked at her alarm clock. It was nearly midnight. She had to be up in six hours to head for the airport and she needed sleep, but Kara wasn’t tired. Not even a little. Her mind just kept churning, her conversation with Lee looping in her head like a broken record. His face and that endless goddamn silence.

The worst part was that she kept trying to rationalize it, telling herself that he didn’t say yes, and trying desperately to ignore the fact that he hadn’t said no either. Kara snorted at herself in disgust and rolled out of bed. She was done thinking about this. This wasn’t her. She’d never twisted herself in knots over a guy before and she wasn’t going to start now.  _Maybe that’s just because you never cared about someone this much_ , a sneaky little voice in her head said, but Kara shut the thought down and reached for her practice gear and her skates.  It was late, but maybe if she could just work off this energy… If she could skate, she’d feel better.  Or at least be too exhausted to do anything but sleep afterwards.

Quickly, she dressed and made her way down to the rink. It was a full moon tonight, and the light streaming through the windows was bright enough to see by as she took the ice. The relative darkness suited her mood tonight, anyway. Kara laced her skates on and cued up the music for the long program, setting it to repeat.  Ninety-five percent, Coach had said. Kara would focus on making it 100, skating until her mind and her body were too numb for anything but sleep.

She warmed up, then took her starting position on the ice, waiting for the music to reach the intro again before she ran through the routine, or as much as she could without Lee anyway.  For a few seconds, Kara felt irrationally angry—angry that she had to depend on him for this. Or for anything at all really. She had a sudden pang of nostalgia for her former and far less complicated life.

Then the opening strains of the music filled the rink, interrupting her thoughts, and Kara cleared her mind and just skated. Her blades sliced cleanly through the smooth ice as she ran through each motion. She recalled Laura’s criticisms and pushed harder, focusing on hitting every jump, getting full extensions. The final move was a small lift, and Kara closed her eyes. The plaintive notes of the melody washed over her as she glided absently, envisioning the sequence, how she’d move, how Lee would move, how their bodies would… Kara came to a stop, pinching the bridge of her nose and heaving a sigh before she opened her eyes again.

Only to find the real Lee standing before her.

She blinked, startled, and thought about asking what he was doing there, but… well, hadn’t she been half expecting he’d show up like the last time?  _Wasn’t that the reason why she came down here in the first place?_ the little voice piped up again. She pushed the thought aside and met Lee’s gaze as the final chord of music faded into silence. He was staring at her, his face unreadable as he slowly glided forward. Then he stretched out a hand, palm up.

Kara stared back, a sense of anticipation stirring in her, and slid her hand into his. The simple gesture, one that they had done hundreds or—maybe even thousands—of times now, sent a splash of heat up her arm. Lee led them to the center of the ice, and Kara tentatively arranged herself into the opening pose, a loose-limbed embrace. She extended one arm up and back, and rested a hand on Lee’s chest, bracing herself about eight inches away from him, when his arms suddenly tightened around her, pulling her fully against him. Instinctively, she pushed back, creating space between them again, same as in all their rehearsals, but Lee pulled her close once more, an arm looped tight around her waist, a hand cupping the nape of her neck.

Confused, Kara lifted her head, her gaze locking on to his. There was something new behind those familiar blue eyes, something she’d never seen from Lee before. A fierceness. He looked… almost predatory. Even his voice sounded different in the silence of the darkened rink, strangely gruff, nearly guttural when he whispered, “No holding back,” as his thumb stroked softly, slowly down the side of her throat. 

Kara inhaled sharply, her chest expanding and thudding against Lee’s. Every brain cell in her head was screaming that this was a bad idea, but every nerve ending in her body wanted it. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his.

Lee tilted his head forward just as the music began, his lips grazing her ear. “This one’s just for us,” he murmured, and Kara was powerless to do anything but nod. And then they were moving, gliding together then apart down the ice. Soaring and twisting, Kara felt weightless, tethered to the ice only by the grasp of his hands on her skin. There was no hesitation as their bodies enfolded each other, lifting and supporting, bracing and bending. The universe narrowed down to these four and a half minutes, just Kara and Lee, flying in tandem with speed and power and synchronicity. She never wanted to stop.

But all too soon, gravity beckoned. Lee’s hands were catching her, lowering her slowly against his body as the final chords of their music played. Her arms circled his neck, fingers stealing through his hair as he held her off the ice, her blades resting on his skate boots.  Kara was breathless, her heart pounding as she tilted her forehead to his, eyes squeezed shut as they finally glided to a stop in the center of the ice. Lee’s arms were banded around her chest, crushing her to him, his own heavy breaths fanning against her cheek as they clung together, neither making a motion to untangle themselves.

Finally, reluctantly, Kara lifted her feet and Lee lowered her the final step to the rink, his embrace loosening, even as he bent his head to hers still. Kara unlinked her arms, palms sliding down over his shoulders to rest against his chest as her blades touched the ice again. Her heart was racing and she felt dizzy, disoriented, as reality rushed back to her. Kara didn’t want to open her eyes. She just… couldn’t look into his face right now, and see that it was over. It was all over.

Maybe Lee felt the same, because she wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that before he finally shifted, his head lifting, cheek brushing against her hair. Then his lips pressed against her forehead for the briefest of seconds.

By the time Kara finally opened her eyes again, she was alone, the ice empty.


	8. Chapter 8

“And welcome to the US National Figure Skating Championships!”

Kara nodded to the overly perky staffer at the sign-in desk and clipped her badge to her jacket, then followed Laura and Lee through the doors to the small but bustling ballroom. The room was packed, the droning buzz of conversation high. Skaters clad in a rainbow of warmup jackets dotted the crowd of agents, managers and general hangers-on, and Kara spotted some bright lights and tall men holding TV cameras on their shoulders at one far corner of the room.  As they pushed through the crowd, Kara felt eyes on her from every direction and shifted uncomfortably. She couldn’t help but feel like a butcher had just slapped a sticker on her forehead reading “Fresh Meat.”

Pulling up alongside Laura, she murmured, “Remind me why we’re doing this dog-and-pony show again?” If it were up to Kara, she’d be practicing right now, or maybe sleeping, but Laura had insisted their attendance was mandatory at the welcome party.

The woman’s polished smile didn’t even falter as she surveyed the room and muttered back, “Because US figure skating is only 80 percent talent and the other 20 percent is politics.” She lifted a hand, waving to a cluster of older men and women that Kara recognized from television as some of the top skating coaches in the country. “And I certainly don’t intend for us to lose because we didn’t play the game.”

She squared her shoulders and sailed off into the crowd. Kara just smirked and watched her go, wondering not for the first time if Roslin was wasted as a skating coach. She could’ve done a heck of a job running a small country.

Kara shifted, turning to Lee and took a deep breath, barely resisting the sudden urge to call out for Laura to come back. It was the first time all day they’d really been alone, and nerves twisted her stomach as she studied his profile.  _This was ridiculous_ , she told herself. She was acting like a teenager.  _Nothing had really changed_ , Kara insisted, as if she hadn’t spent the hours before dawn cataloguing all the ways it felt like everything had.  

Looking around at the sea of unfamiliar faces around them, Kara wished there was someone—anyone—else here that she knew. Unfortunately, Bill had had some business to attend to this morning. Heck, at this point, she might even rather chat with Gianne than have to try to make small talk with Lee. Speaking of… “Hey, where’s the other half? How come she gets to miss out on all this  _fun_?”

Lee was staring off into space and it took a moment for him to turn, his face creased with confusion “Hmm?”

“You know—Tall, blonde…”  _Sucks the joy out of a room faster than a two-dollar–_

“Oh,” he blinked, flushing slightly. “She—she had some calls to make. I’m meeting her later.”

“Mmm, lucky her.” The words hung in the air, heavy with a double meaning Kara hadn’t even intended, and she cringed. She’d meant Gianne was lucky to skip the mixer, of course, but Lee’s head was already lifting, focusing on her now. Was that a guilty look on his face? “Kara—”

The churning in her gut intensified and Kara turned into the crowd, calling over her shoulder. “Let’s hit the bar. I could use a drink.”

She didn’t need to look to hear the frown in his voice. “Do you really think that’s the best idea right now?” He followed her though, as they shoved through the throng and finally pulled up to the bar.

 She rolled her eyes and said drily, “That Diet Coke is strong stuff, but I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”

Lee’s expression smoothed into a slightly sheepish one. Kara ordered them both a soda, then took the glasses and moved down the bar, leaning back and resting her elbows on the counter behind them. “So,” she said, gaze sweeping over the crowd, “who’s our competition?”

“Besides us, I’d say there are five teams that are real contenders.” Lee nodded towards the far right, leaning back against the bar next to her and mimicking her position. “The two in red?” Her eyes picked out a lanky boy with bad skin and a short girl with wild corkscrew hair, whom she could hear screeching something even from their relative distance away.

“Tweedledum and Tweedledumber? God, they look like they’re in high school!”

“That’s because they are,” Lee chuckled. “Katraine and Costanza. They were last year’s junior pairs champions and just moved up to seniors. Lots of energy, no finesse. They need more training but they could be a wildcard.”

Kara snorted, dismissing them, and started seeking out the next potential threat. “What about them?” Her chin jerked towards a couple in green warm-ups near the windows. They were a striking pair, the woman exotically beautiful with a lush mane of black hair and the man, dark-eyed with a crop of tight black curls. There was something off about the way the man was standing, Kara thought, narrowing her eyes but she couldn’t figure it out.

“That’s Felix Gaeta and Tory Foster. She cries on command at the end of every program.”

Kara tilted her head. “Is he limping?”

“He’s got a prosthetic leg. “

Her eyes widened. A skater with a fake leg? “Well I guess we know who gets the sympathy vote,” Kara muttered.

Lee tried valiantly but couldn’t hide his smirk. Kara caught him and laughed, tilting slightly, her arm knocking into his shoulder. He pressed back, wearing an easy grin, and Kara felt some of the distance between them slipping away. She couldn’t help but grin back, warmth spreading in her chest as their eyes met and held for a long moment. Finally, Kara forced herself to turn back to the crowd, clearing her throat. “C’mon, is there any real competition in this joint or what? Not exactly shaking in my boots, here, Lee.”

“Real competition would be those two.” He pointed over her shoulder towards a stunning supermodel-looking blonde and a shorter, wiry looking man with an intense face, also blond. “Leoben Conoy and his sister, Caprice Sechs.”

Kara raised an eyebrow. “Sechs?” She smirked. “Tell me how you really feel.”  

He blushed to the tips of his ears. “I think it’s German, actually.”

“So they’re the ones to beat?” Kara asked, thinking about how odd it must be to skate with your brother. She tried to picture herself doing some of their moves with Karl and grimaced. Talk about awkward. And he wasn’t even a blood relative. 

“They’ve won the past three National Championships like clockwork. Perfect programs every time. They never get ruffled.” Lee leaned closer, his voice dropping lower. “People like to joke that they’re really machines, not human at all. They kind of creep me out.” 

Kara studied the couple, and suddenly the guy, Leoben, swiveled his head and locked eyes with her. His stare was scrutinizing, unblinking, like he was trying to read her mind or something, and Kara shuddered suddenly and jerked her gaze away. “Yeah,” she muttered to Lee, “Definitely creepy.”

“Mmm, and speaking of creeps…” he murmured back, his face turned towards another couple that was making their way through the crowd.

“Hello, Ana,” he said, in a friendly but closed-off tone. Kara’s ears perked up. The petite, dark-skinned woman nodding must be Anastasia Dualla, Lee’s last partner. Beside her stood a slender man with long dark hair tumbling past his shoulders. He’d look like a cover of a bad romance novel if he weren’t so scrawny.

“Gaius,” Lee said, tightly, his tone much less friendly this time.   

“Leland,” the man returned with equal disdain. He shifted slightly, his gaze darting to Kara as a somewhat lecherous smile creased his face. “And who have we here?”

“This is my partner, Kara Thrace. Kara, this is Gaius Baltar.”

She could almost hear Lee’s teeth grinding and wondered what was up, even as she stuck out a hand towards Gaius. “Good to meet ya.”

Instead of shaking her hand, he wrapped his fingers around hers, twisting and lifting it to his lips. “Oh, it’s my pleasure indeed. No wonder Adama’s been keeping you tucked away at the mansion, all to himself.” Kara rolled her eyes, barely resisting the urge to snatch her hand back and rub it off on her pants.

She caught the eye of Lee’s old partner over Gaius’s bent head and nodded to her. “Hey. Uh, is he always like this?”

The woman shook her head and slapped his shoulder. “Stop slobbering over the new girl, Gaius.” She turned back to Lee and looked at him, a considering expression on her face. “It’s good to see you back in the game, Lee,” she said quietly.

“It’s good to be back,” he said, after a pause. Gaius dropped her hand finally and Kara turned and caught Lee’s expression but couldn’t quite read it. It seemed like a mixture of surprise and sadness…was it regret? Did he regret no longer having Ana for a partner? Her gaze flitted to the woman. She was poised, polished in a way Kara would never be.

“I must say, Adama, we were rather surprised to hear you’re skating such a rigorous program,” Gaius said, a slight sneer marring his features. “After the… _unfortunate_  incident last time, it seems a rather ambitious choice, wouldn’t you say?”

Lee glared at the man, a muscle in his jaw jumping, but he didn’t answer.

“I mean, it would hardly be fair to your lovely new partner here if you suddenly found yourself freezing up at a crucial moment, perhaps?

“Gaius, that’s enough,” Anastasia said, her voice low but firm.

“No, Ana, really, I think the stunning Miss Thrace should know what she’s getting herself into here. What with Adama’s issues and all.”

Lee stiffened next to her and pivoted abruptly, storming away from them without so much as a syllable. Kara watched his retreating back, then turned, narrowing her eyes at Gaius.

“Well really,” Gaius sighed, “how rude.”

His partner glared at him and shook her head, then moved away through the crowd. Gaius shrugged nonchalantly and turned his attention to Kara, who was scowling at him.

“What the hell was that?”

 “I was merely trying to help by pointing out that perhaps your partner needs to get a better handle on—”

“Hey,” Kara snapped, “ _doc_ , save the psychoanalysis for your therapy sessions.”

“I was simply expressing my concern for –”

“The only thing you need to be worried about is how we’re gonna kick your ass on the ice.”

To her disgust, Gaius smiled. “Well, I do like a feisty woman.” He leaned closer. “Perhaps after the performances tonight, we could explore that fiery side of yours in private? 

“Perhaps hell will freeze over, first?” Kara shook her head, grabbed her glass and Lee’s abandoned one too, and walked away, leaving the sleazeball gaping after her.

She launched back into the crowd of people in the direction Lee had gone, but it took several minutes before she could find him. He was in the far corner talking to a woman with caramel-colored hair dressed in an almost blindingly white blazer and pants, and clutching a notebook and a pen. Lee was frowning, his brow creasing heavily as the woman talked to him. Kara started to move closer but pulled up short when a bit of their exchange hit her ears:

“…thought you’d retired.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Nationals after four years out of the game, though. Surely, that has to affect your confidence levels.”

“Well, no, actually, I’m very—”

“Tell me, Mr. Adama,” the reporter barreled on as if he hadn’t even spoken. “What kept you out of competition for all this time? Did the Calgary games do a number on your head? Is it true that you couldn’t keep a partner because of that?”

Kara frowned, confused. What the heck had happened in Calgary? Bill had told her none of the female skaters had been good enough for Lee, but from this snotty reporter’s digs, it seemed like maybe it’d been the opposite?

“Calgary isn’t an issue,” Lee said tightly. “My current partner and I have been skating together for more than a year, and—”

The woman was smirking with barely repressed amusement. “Right. The hockey player, you mean?”

Kara watched Lee shift, square his shoulders. “Yes,  _former_  hockey player,” he said, in that overly calm way he had that—she had heard enough to know—meant he was really seething underneath.  

“Well, I have to hand it to you, Adama. Picking someone with no experience. It’s a bold move. The two of you are the talk of the competition.”

“We’re looking forward to showing everyone what we can do.”

“Mmm.” She tilted her head, a smug look on her face. “Let’s ditch the canned responses and get real, shall we?” The reporter flashed a rather wolfish grin. “This is a last grasp at a career for you. Do you really think you can win with…” she made a face, “that hockey player?

Lee’s face tightened, anger passing like a thunder cloud across his face. She watched him glare and shift, getting right in the reporter’s face. “ _That_   _hockey player_  is the best skater I’ve ever been on the ice with. She’s so good, she’ll make you cry.”

Kara’s eyes widened at the vehement words and she couldn’t help grinning, but the reporter was less than impressed. “Quite the impassioned defense.” She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Lee like she was thinking about having him for dinner. “Are you sleeping with her?”  

Kara watched in surprise as Lee’s hand clenched into a fist, then rose, and she rushed forward to intercept, grabbing his arm and shoving his glass from the bar into his hand. “Hey, there you are!” She turned to level an even stare at the reporter. “This a friend of yours, Lee?

“Not exactly,” he murmured, jaw still tightly clenched.

“Really? Because I would’ve guessed she was an awfully  _close_  friend, since she seems pretty comfortable prying into your personal life.” She leveled a c’mon-and-try-me stare at the woman. “Which, by the way, unless you’re looking for a threesome, I don’t see as any of your goddamn business.”  

“Hmm, I’ll keep the offer in mind.” The woman smirked and Kara felt an urge to finish what Lee was gonna start and just pound the smug look right off her face. But then she held out a hand. “D’Anna Biers. Fleet News Service. Fleet, Michigan.”

 “Kara Thrace. That Hockey Player,” she gave D’Anna a withering once over, ignoring the outstretched hand. “And on second thought, you’re not our type.”

The woman just smiled wolfishly and nonchalantly took her hand back, running it through her hair. She flashed her teeth at Kara. “We’re all very interested to see what you can do on the ice tonight.”

“Oh, I bet.” Kara grinned, her eyes sparkling as inspiration struck. “Actually…since you are such a fan and all, we should really give you the inside scoop. What do you think, Lee?”

“The inside….scoop?” He raised a brow and Kara widened her eyes, urging him to go with it. “Yes, yes we…should do that.”

Inwardly Kara rolled her eyes, making a mental note to never let Lee be in charge of cover stories. She turned to D’Anna instead and said, “Right, so, we’re gonna shake things up out there on the ice. Really show the world that this ain’t your grandma’s figure skating, you know? “

D’Anna was looking intrigued, her pen already scribbling as Kara spoke. She was taking the bait.

“We’ve got some big ideas to really revolutionize the sport. First, we’re thinking,” she spread her hands wide, “PYROTECHNICS.”

The reporter’s eyes widened. “Pyro…technics?”

“Yup, flames will really heat things up, don’t you think?”

“She’s gonna triple toe through a fiery hoop.” Lee added, deadpan, and Kara nearly lost it.

“Uh huh, and then for the climax… we’re going to take a volunteer from the audience, maybe even a journalist like yourself,” Kara said, her voice hardening into steel, “someone no one would miss, you know? And we’re gonna see how many blade marks we can fit up and down her back. I think that one’s gonna get us a perfect score.”

Beers was glaring now and Kara smirked, leaning in and gesturing to the notebook with her half full glass of soda. “Did you get all that? It’s Kara with a K by the way.” She gestured again and this time, she tilted her wrist, sending the liquid in the glass all over the reporter’s pristine white outfit.

The woman growled with frustration, and Kara grinned. “Oops, sorry.”

“You’ll regret that,” D’anna hissed, then looked to Lee. “Good luck, Adama. You’re gonna need it.”

She stomped away, shoving people out of her way and Kara gave in to the giggles finally.

“You probably shouldn’t have done that,” Lee said, but his tone was more amused than angry.

“Are you kidding me? She was a total bitch. Trying to call you a has-been. It’s insulting!”

Lee’s brow creased, then a slow smile spread across his face until he was practically beaming.

“What?”

“ _That_ ’s the part that offended you?”

“She was way out of line!” Kara insisted. “You expected me to just take it lying down?”

Lee just stared at her for a minute, but he kept grinning. “I guess that was pretty silly of me.”

“Damn straight,” Kara nodded, eyes intent on him. “You’re my partner.” She smirked. “I’m the only one who gets to take that enormous ego of yours down a peg or two.”

He shook his head, but slung his arm around her shoulders. Something lifted, expanded in Kara’s chest

“Okay, but… threesome, Kara?! Really?”

Her laughter was loud enough to turn a few heads.

“It’s not funny,” he said, even though he was still smiling. “You don’t know how fast rumors spread in the skating world.”

“Oh, so what?” she sighed. “Besides, it’ll just help our image anyway, right? We’re supposed to be giving the audience what they want, sex sells and all that?” Kara bit back a grin at his wide-eyed expression. “And hey, I figured it might be your kind of thing.”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head this time. “My kind of thing?”

She smirked at him. “You’re already sleeping on purple silk sheets, Leland? Can threesomes be far behind? Really?”

Lee made a face and dropped his arm, bumping his hip into Kara to knock her off balance. She stumbled, then returned the favor, and they waged a quiet battle trying to step on each other’s feet until Laura finally came back, took one look at them and decried them as being worse than grade school kids, and dismissed them. 

***

Kara stared out the limo’s tinted window at the dimmed lights of downtown Chicago, drumming her fingernails anxiously against the door. After four long days of training and waiting, waiting and training, there was ninety minutes till pairs’ short programs finally began, and she could already feel tension start thrumming in her body.

Rap-tap-tap. Rap-tap-tap.

Suddenly, Laura reached over, her hand stilling Kara’s even as she flashed her a sympathetic smile. “They should be here soon and we’ll get going.”

Mere seconds later,  the door whooshed open and Lee and Bill climbed inside. Bill reached out and pulled the door shut and Kara’s eyes widened. She turned to Lee, who was settling onto the seat next to her, his face drawn, grim even. Across from her Laura asked what she was thinking. “Where is Gianne?”

Kara watched Lee’s lips tighten into a thin line, his eyes trained on the carpeted floor of the car. “She’s not coming,” Bill answered quietly, his voice even. “A problem came up.” His eyes skipped to Lee’s and Kara knew there was something more going on here than they were letting on. “She had to go back to the Boston office and take care of it. Let’s go!” The last part was directed to the driver, and as the limo pulled away from the hotel entrance, Kara’s glance strayed towards Lee again.   

This time he caught the look. “What?!” he snapped.

Kara raised an eyebrow. Someone was touchy. Not that she could blame him. Gianne seemed to constantly be backing out of things, leaving him for some emergency or crisis, so this wasn’t totally surprising. But still… this was  _Nationals_. Suddenly, the whole thing made her angry.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Kara,” he breathed, sounding weary suddenly.

“You’re just fine with her leaving like this? Taking off and missing y—”

“Let it go!” He interrupted, voice low and lethal. Kara felt a pang at the rebuke. Across from them, she caught Laura and Bill exchanging concerned glances.

“All I’m saying is—”

“You want to worry about something? Worry about our programs.”

Kara  frowned.  As if she hadn’t been doing that all damn week. “Fine,” she hissed.

Her stomach churned and Kara turned her attention back out the window. A minute later, she closed her eyes, letting her head thunk back against the seat cushion, as she mentally replayed tonight’s routine.

Their short program was meant to be an attention-grabber, all power and unexpected twists, something that would put them on the boards. It contained seven required elements, compulsories, that had to be completed, and their plan was to not just do the moves but  _outdo_ them. Lifts and throws that called for double or triple rotations would all be tripled, and in one risky move, quadrupled. Kara was about 90% on landing the quad cleanly in practice. If she could pull it off in competition, not only would they be the first pairs skaters to ever do side-by-side quad jumps, but she’d be the first female seniors skater ever to complete one in competition.  

It was enough, more than enough, to keep her brain occupied and her stomach churning all the way to the arena, through dressing and warm-ups and the other teams competing. But it wasn’t until they stood there, watching the last minute of Anastasia Dualla and Gaius Baltar’s admittedly top-notch program that Kara started to feel truly distressed. They were elegant and polished,

Slight though he was, Gaius lifted the petite Anastasia with ease, throwing her high and her landings were light as a feather on the gleaming surface. In comparison, Kara felt clumsy and oafish just standing on the sidelines, and she brushed sweating palms against her spandex-clad thighs. Instead of a traditional skating dress bedecked with lace or feathers, she wore a body-hugging black unitard with an open back, a spray of red, pink, and orange rhinestones from shoulder to hip the only ornamentation. She matched Lee’s form-fitting black pants and top, which had light blue stones bracketing the deep, open V that showed off his chest to its best advantage. Laura had been quite serious about playing up their assets and insisted the edgy, sexy, nontraditional costumes fit their program to a T.

Now though, as she watched Anastasia in a white lacy leotard with gauzy flowing skirts, Kara had a pang of self-consciousness.  _That_ was what ice skaters wore.  _That_  was how they moved, all ballet poses and artfully extended limbs. She couldn’t do that.

“What?”

Lee was staring at her suddenly and she realized she must have said it out loud. “I can’t do that,” Kara said again, waving a hand at the ice. “Just look at them. I can’t…I’ll never be able to do that.”

He frowned as he turned to face her, confusion on his face. “What are you talking about, Kara?”

 “That. With the arms and the dress and…” Her chest felt tight now, her heart starting to pound as she watched their footwork sequence. “Look at her, she’s like a perfect little ice princess or something.”

She watched, eyes glued to their rivals, and barely registered Lee’s murmur next to her about perfection being overrated. Kara’s stomach flipped and her head filled with a rushing sensation. Why had she ever thought she could do this? Desperation forced the words out of her. “I’m not...  _graceful_. I’m… I’m a jock. I’m never going to look like that on the ice.”

“So what?”

Kara twisted her head finally, looking at Lee in confusion. “What?”

“So what if you don’t look like that? Isn’t that the whole point?” He chuckled slightly. “Out of the box is where you live, right?”

She just swallowed hard unable to answer with the way her insides were being twisted into knots suddenly.

Lee’s face changed as he watched her, and he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning closer and talking intently. “Look, this is just the nerves talking. You’re fine. You are fine,” he paused and smiled. “Because  _you_  are Kara Thrace, the best damn skater I’ve been on the ice with, remember that?” Kara inhaled slowly, nodding, trying to believe it, but like a magnet was pulling on her, her gaze strayed back to the ice.

“Hey, hey, Kara, look at me,” Lee’s hands settled on her face, turning her head gently and holding it still. “Look at my eyes, okay. Now breathe.” She took another deep breath and he nodded encouragingly. “Good. Forget about all of that. Forget about everyone else. I don’t care. You’re here. I’m here.  We made it. This” he paused, “is all that matters.”

His palms were warm against her face, and some of the panic clawing at her subsided at Lee’s reassuring words. Kara closed her eyes and tried to focus herself, breathing deeply. Lee’s thumbs smoothed over her skin, tracing circles over her cheekbones and she felt his forehead brush against hers. His voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. “You’re Kara. And I’m Lee. The rest of it isn’t worth a damn, right?”

She took a long shuddering breath. He was right. They just needed to go out there and skate  _their way_. Her eyes opened and Lee was practically nose-to-nose with her, his solemn gaze boring into her.  “Now, we’re gonna go out there and we’re gonna do this and we’re gonna  _win_.”

The utter panic receded completely, a new calm settling within her at his conviction. Kara smiled finally and Lee smiled too, and they stayed like that, still for a few seconds, then abruptly he shifted back a step, dropping his hands and looking slightly embarrassed.

“So, how— how do you feel now?”

 _Strong_ , Kara thought, but she just grinned at him. “Ready to kick a little ass.”

He grinned too and she reached for his hand, squeezing as she threaded her fingers with Lee’s. Then time seemed to move into fast forward. They were announced and they took the ice, skating to the center of the rink and facing each other, raising their hands and pressing palm to palms as their music, a fast-paced piece full of pounding drums began to fill the arena. Adrenaline shot through her and then they were moving, covering the ice with fast synchronized strokes as they circled.

Fancy footwork changed to longer strides as they geared up for their first and biggest move, the side-by-side quads. If they could nail these early when they were fresh, the rest of the routine should be smooth sailing. They turned in unison, starting to glide into the setup and Lee held his palm out face up in their now-customary gesture. Kara reached out, brushing her fingers across but he caught her hand this time and squeezed her fingers for just an extra second, flashing her a smile, and suddenly the nerves were gone completely.

They turned together, one leg reaching back and picking down to launch them both up high off the ice. Kara sprung up hard, rotating through the air. One, two, three….FOUR. She barely felt her blade touch the ice again, the landing clean and smooth, as Lee set down next to her. Kara shouted in elation, unable to help herself, but she was drowned by the roar from the crowd who were on their feet for the record-setting double jump. 

Lee pulled her into him as they dropped into the next move, a low sit spin, his arms locking around her back and her knee braced between his.  They whirled faster and faster, everything receding into a blur except Lee’s impossibly wide smile.

The rest of the routine flashed by on a tide of endorphins and gleeful pride. Their genderbending lift and throw jump went over well with the crowd, although the judges may have been less fond. It’d been a risk to play it so untraditionally, and Kara found herself gnawing her lip anxiously in the kiss-and-cry area as they waited for scores. The delay was agonizing and she all but squeezed the blood out of Laura’s hand before the digital dashes and dots came up on the screen. Then finally, the stream of numbers popped up. Kara’s eyes rapidly scanned them, trying to compute. They were high, high enough for… fourth place! That meant, if tomorrow night’s program went well, they were in. They’d be going to the Olympics.  Excitement and anticipation swirled in her chest as she was swept up in a crush of hugs and well wishes.

“Man, this overnight thing is brutal,” Kara said later, as they were headed to their rooms. Lee was three doors closer to the elevators than her room, so they reached his door first. She leaned against the wall, tossing a small stuffed bear up in the air, a bouquet of flowers clutched in the crook of her arm, as Lee pulled his wallet out. Kara was restless, bending her knee and bouncing her heel against the wall. “Why can’t it be a double header? Short program, long program. Same night, boom, you’re out of there. You know what I mean?”

Lee was fumbling with his wallet, looking in different pockets for his key as he distractedly answered, “Mmm I know exactly what you mean.”

“God, it’s like, enough already! It’s like…what’s the word? C’mon you’re the one who knows all the big words. You know the one I’m looking for?” She tossed the little bear higher and higher as the words tumbled out.

Next to her, Lee seemed to be having an awful lot of trouble fitting his key card into the slot. “Uh I- I dunno, expectation? Anticipation?”

“No, no, it’s like… It’s like…” She racked her brain for the word and finally… “FOREPLAY!”

Her outburst was punctuated by the beeping of the door unlocking as it finally read the key card and she looked over at Lee, who was staring at her with wide eyes, his mouth gaping. “F-foreplay?”

She smirked at the look on his face. Who knew his eyebrows could climb that high? “Yeah, you know, like  _foreplay_.” Since their whole damn existence lately seemed like one endless round of that, Kara knew he had to know what it meant.

“Yeah, I, uh, I got it.”  

“Well I guess you’re used to it by now.”

The horrified look on his face almost made her laugh.

“What do you mean?”

“With Gianne, being so far away all the time. I guess anticipation is like, kind of your kink.”

Lee flushed bright red and she watched his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat, as he fixed his attention back to the door. “Right,” he mumbled, swiping the key card again and wrenching the handle open before the beeping stopped this time.

Kara turned toward him, pushing off the wall. “But still, wouldn’t you rather just get on with it?”

He shook his head then looked back to her, his face a bit pale. “What?!”

“Skating!” Lee looked at her blankly. “Long program? Chicago? Nationals?” She waved the bear at him.

He snapped out of it and grabbed the bear, squeezing it in his hand hard enough that his knuckles turned white, then he looked at Kara. “Sleep. I’d rather sleep. Goodnight.”

She frowned as Lee disappeared into the room, wondering what that was about. Sleep? Kara shrugged and headed off to her own room, sniffing the bouquet in her hand and grinning.


	9. Chapter 9

A little less than twenty-four hours later, Kara stood at rinkside again, wiping sweaty palms against her thighs. Tonight’s long program would, in some ways, be a bigger challenge than the explosive, technically difficult short program had been. The emphasis in the long program was on emotion, selling it for the audience and the judges. Making them believe in the passion for four and a half minutes. The problem wasn’t that Kara feared they wouldn’t be convincing. No, rather she was worried that she would be all too convincing.

All too soon, their names were being called. Lee grabbed her hand and they stepped out on to the ice, circling together as they waved to the stands.

“Hey, how’s the nerves?” Lee whispered.

“Manageable.” She wasn’t going to tell him she’d puked twice already earlier.

“Good. Because this is it, Kara. This is the one that counts.”

“I know.”

“If we skate clean, we’ve got a real shot at this.”

“I know.”

They glided to center ice and slowed, moving into position.

“We have to just put it all out there. Really give it all—”

“Lee!” she hissed through a tight smile. “I KNOW!” Kara slid into his arms, pressing her body tightly to his, closer than she’d dared in their practices, since the night before they left Connecticut. Here we go, she thought. All or nothing. She splayed a hand on his chest and extended her other arm up and back, then raised her eyes to Lee’s surprised face. “No holding back.”

Lee stared at her for a second then smiled slowly, as he curled his arm around her waist and raised his free hand to her neck. Something shifted, clicking into place, and Kara drew a deep breath as their music began. The soft, almost-haunting melody filled the arena, and Kara could hear nothing but the sound of it, as they moved together in unison, every move, every gesture, every look as natural as breathing.

And then, it was over. Lee was catching her and lowering her to the ice, heads bent close as they caught their breath and the music ebbed at the crash of thunderous applause. They untangled themselves and bowed quickly to one side, then the other of the arena and then skated off the ice. Giddy with elation, they slid on skate guards and stumbled beyond the boards hugging Laura and Bill, and then Lee swept her up in a bone-crushing embrace, whispering in her ear “We did it, Kara! We did it.” She squeezed him back hard, her heart full and her cheeks aching, she was grinning so much. But when she pulled back, Lee leaned forward, his mouth pressing firmly to hers in an unmistakable and thoroughly unexpected kiss.

Kara slid back in confusion, freezing as her eyes widened. Lee looked equally shocked, his face registering surprise, then bewilderment, then a sheepish look of discomfort that almost made her feel sorry for him. They just stared at each other for a few seconds, both seemingly at a loss for words, and then suddenly they were distracted by the roar of the crowd _._

They were booing.  

Quickly, Kara and Lee stepped apart, their heads snapping up to the scoreboard. The digital numbers streamed by, Kara’s heart sinking with each subsequent digit. The scores were low, far lower than they’d deserved, and it wouldn’t elevate them above the fourth slot they were holding onto. Their program had been flawless. More than that, there’d been an energy, a magic to it that had, quite clearly, resonated with the crowd, based on the chorus of displeasure they were raising now, but had somehow failed to move the judges.

Her gaze darted to Lee, who was watching the board and looking positively sick to his stomach. Standing beside him, Laura had a hand over her mouth and next to her, Bill stood, his mouth set in a grim line. Suddenly, a fierce wave of anger swept through Kara. “THIS IS BULLSHIT!” she yelled. “We skated our asses off out there!” 

Lee just stared at her, still looking shell-shocked, but Laura stepped forward, tried to place a calming hand on her arm. “Sometimes, the judges, just don’t see it the way we expect them to.”

Kara shrugged her off, still seething. “We left our hearts out on that goddamn ice and you’re telling me they couldn’t see it?” She stalked through the curtains towards the backstage area, already pacing furiously as Laura, Lee and Bill stepped through behind her. Over the monitors rigged backstage, she heard the music start up for the last couple, that creepy German brother and sister team who were in first. “So we’re done? Just like that, because a bunch of pansy-ass judges who probably couldn’t do a double axel if their lives depended on it say so?”

Lee was studying the carpet, not meeting her eyes. Bill stared still looking furious and Laura just looked sad. It was Laura’s face that made her lose some of her steam, the anger being replaced by sorrow that it should end this way. She wasn’t ready for it to be over. Kara sagged, exhausted now, against the wall, then suddenly there was a large groaning noise, and her head shot up. The monitor was replaying some footage from the Germans’ dance and she moved closer, reaching up to increase the volume on the set.

“….looked like she got caught in his lederhosen coming down from that lift, and her right blade sliced his calf. The medics are….no, they’re shaking their heads now. It seems Conoy and Sechs are going to have to withdraw from this competition and that means…”

Kara swallowed hard. Laura looked back and forth between her and Lee, smiling. “We’re going to the Olympics.”

***

“You sure about this?”

Lee’s head bobbed unsteadily but emphatically, and Kara shrugged and gestured to the bartender to fill the shot glasses lined up on the bar between them. It was their sixth round of shots, and even though this wasn’t her first rodeo, it’d been a long time since she’d put them back like this and she was starting to feel it. She had no idea how Lee was still standing.

And not just standing, but  _dancing_. He knocked back the two shots—salt, tequila, lime—not even wincing anymore at the taste and grabbed her arm, nearly pulling her off her stool and back out onto the dance floor. It was their fourth trip up to the crowded floor and despite the fast pace of the music, Lee seemed content to mostly sway in one spot. He slid one arm around her neck and reached up with the other hand to tug on a lock of her hair. Lee wrapped it around his finger and grinned at her lazily. “ ’s pretty. Shiny.”

Kara shifted uncomfortably. This was such a bad idea. It had been Lee’s idea to go out. Celebrate, he’d said, eyes shining and she hadn’t been able to say no. Hadn’t wanted to say no. She’d been all keyed up after the medals ceremony anyway, way too restless to go back to her hotel room, alone, and sleep. Laura and Bill had begged off, opting to go for dinner (Kara had whispered in Laura’s ear before she left not to do anything she wouldn’t do; she’d been shocked to get a wink from Laura and a murmured “right back atcha” in response) and then it had just been the two of them.

Which had seemed fine at the time. But now, with Lee’s hand in her hair and the way he was staring at her, she was thinking she’d gotten it very wrong. He swayed wildly and she grabbed his hips to steady him. Lee tilted closer, so close she could feel his breath fanning her cheek. “Kara,” he breathed, and her chest clenched and she forced out the first words that came to mind.

“So, did you call Gianne?”

 Lee frowned at her. “What?”

“Gianne,” Kara swallowed. “Did you call her and tell her we’re going to the Olympics?”

“N-no.” Lee looked confused for a second, and his hands slid out of her hair to rest against the nape of her neck. Suddenly his face looked terribly pained. “Gianne’s gone,” his tone was sulky, like a child. “She left me again.”

The music changed to an even faster techno beat and Kara’s head pounded in time with it. She felt hot and claustrophobic suddenly, bodies pressing in on them on all sides. Lee’s hands were heavy, warm on her neck and he pulled her closer, his face just inches away as he stared at her with wide, earnest eyes. “Everyone leaves me,” he said, slowly, his voice mournful. One hand slid forward, cupping her cheek, and Kara froze, immobilized by the look in his eyes and the feel of his skin on hers. “But not you.”

 Her breath skipped and Kara felt dizzy suddenly.

“You’re a g-good partner, Thara Krace.” Lee’s own eyes widened and then he started laughing hysterically at his own slip-up.

Kara shook off the sting of disappointment, rolling her eyes. “Okay, you’re cut off. Let’s go.” Lee protested, but followed gamely enough, when Kara tugged him through the crowd and out the doors. They made the short trip back to the hotel, up the elevator and down the hall to his room, Lee regaling her with a list of their triumphs at Nationals. At the door, Kara shifted, trying to boost her very drunk partner up a little as she fumbled to get the key card through the slot. 

She frowned as the light blinked red, and she felt Lee start to slide against her hip. She tugged on the arm looped around her shoulders and quickly circled his waist, fingers hooking into the belt loop on his pants to pull him up. Kara grunted, already out of breath, and tried the card again. The green light flashed this time and she said a quick prayer of thanks as she twisted the handle and lugged Lee into the room, dumping him on the stuffed armchair nearest the door. 

She flipped the key onto the desk, shrugged her coat off, and turned back to nudge the door shut. Then she looked at Lee, who was still muttering happily about their skating. Kara had to laugh. God, he was a mess. She ducked into the bathroom and ran the tap, filling a glass with water.

She came back and handed him the drink and the aspirin she’d scrounged from his travel case (she’d downed two herself already in a vain attempt to lose the headache), watching as he gulped it down noisily, both hands cupped around the glass like a child. Lee reached out to put it on the small table next to him, narrowly missing the edge and Kara’s reflexes kicked in as she grabbed it and set it to rights. She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “You are going to have a killer hangover in the morning.”

“’S worth it.” He beamed at her and she just shook her head and leaned over, unlacing his shoes and tugging them off. He’d have to sleep it off.

“You were phom—phemon—phenomar—YOU WERE GREAT!”

“Thanks,” she said, drily, grabbing an ankle and peeling a sock off.

“I was really good,” Kara rolled her eyes at his self-satisfied declaration, as she reached for his other foot, stripping the sock off. “But you…” She froze, wary and waiting to see what would be revealed now  with the help of a little 80-proof truth serum. “You make me better.”

Warmth settled in her chest and Kara couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips, as she straightened up. Lee stood too suddenly, close enough that his knees bumped hers. “We were great out there,” he said, quieter now. “We’re always great out there.” 

The mood shifted with his tone again and Kara felt another buzz rush through her blood as she lifted her head. Blue eyes clouded with either alcohol or emotion locked onto hers and a frisson of awareness sizzled up her spine. Lee’s hand raised, his palm sliding under the bronze metal she still wore, his thumb rubbing the coarse striped ribbon attached.

“We could be great together.” 

His voice was low and husky, hesitant, and Kara’s breath caught in her lungs, her eyes widening at the implication. There wasn’t enough air in the room suddenly and all she could focus on was his questioning eyes and the warmth of his hand against her chest.

His fingers curled, closing around the ribbon in a tight fist and she swallowed hard. “Lee…” but it came out as hardly more than a whisper and he tugged, pulling her towards him slowly, as his head tilted, eyes flicking down to her mouth. Kara had no time to process it, no time to think at all, and then his lips were brushing hers.

It wasn’t like the quick, accidental kiss at the arena. This was soft, tentative, but completely intentional, and just the gentle pressure of Lee’s mouth made her feel boneless. She realized dimly that part of her had been waiting for this, wanting this, all night. Kara sagged against him, arms instinctively lifting to circle his neck, and her brain went blank, save for the thought:  _finally_.

Lee lifted a hand to her cheek, deepening the kiss, the tip of his tongue gliding over her parted lips and dipping into her mouth. She moaned, as his tongue rubbed against hers, tasting like lime and tequila, and the noise set Lee into motion. His hands slid down to her hips and then to her back, arms wrapping tight around her waist. Lee lifted her off the floor, raising her up so their foreheads tilted together, just as he’d done on the ice earlier. But this time Kara raised her legs, squeezing them around his hips and thighs and it was Lee’s turn to moan.

Their kisses turned desperate, tongues clashing together, teeth tugging on soft skin as he stumbled the few steps to the bed and they fell heavily to the mattress. Kara’s entire body felt electrified, pulsing with currents, as he pressed her down, his body blanketing hers. It wasn’t enough though and she wanted more, so Kara fisted her hands in his shirt, yanking it up and sliding her palms under it to trace over familiar muscles tensing beneath unfamiliar skin. His body was hot to the touch as her hands pushed the fabric up over hard, flat abs and strong pecs, her thumbs brushing stiff nipples. Lee tore his mouth away from her skin and sat up, tugging the shirt off and dived down again, pressing his lips to hers. Kara sighed into his mouth, fingers digging into soft, smooth skin and pulling him closer.

He dragged his mouth down over her jaw to rasp his lips against her throat. Kara groaned, hands stroking through his hair, and writhed under him, hips lifting even as she tightened the leg crooked around his thighs, heel pressing him tighter to her. 

Then Lee shifted over her, his lips burning a path down her jaw, then her neck, brushing over her collarbone even as his hands reached for the buttons on her blouse. Kara panted, her mind whirling. Everything was moving so fast. She gasped for breath, her eyes focusing briefly on the nightstand, narrowing on a small item on the wooden surface. A single pearl earring. Confusion filtered through her briefly before she remembered:  _Gianne_.

“Lee,” she breathed weakly. He was concentrating, fingers fumbling clumsily at the tiny closures, and grumbling slightly. “Lee, wait.” She tapped his shoulders. “ _Wait_.”

His head lifted. “What?” He abandoned the shirt, shifting up again, his mouth pressed to her neck. “What is it?”

She grimaced, trying to focus on the thoughts instead of the pleasure. “We can’t,” she croaked, as he flicked his tongue over the pulse point in her throat. “It’s not right. You’re engaged.”

“No, s’ okay. We’re through.”

The words were low, muffled by her skin, and Kara wondered if she could have heard him correctly. “What?” She shoved at his shoulders till he lifted his head. “What do you mean?”

“ ’S over.” He raised a hand and spread his fingers wide. “Poof.”

She stared at him in bewilderment, brain racing faster than her mouth could form words. “But how…why?”

 “Ssshhhhhhhh” He placed a finger against her lips and lowered his head to her neck again. “Don’t wanna think. Sick of thinking. Sick of talking.”

The words should have been music to her ears, but Kara couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all wrong. Lee had been engaged to marry someone else and now here they were, going from zero to sixty faster than she could blink. She wanted to know what happened. Had Gianne broke it off? No, she’d been thrilled to announce the engagement just five days ago. Kara couldn’t imagine her calling it off. But what about Lee? Could he have been the one to end things? But why would he? Her gaze flicked back to the nightstand and that lone pearl earring again. It was typical Gianne, polished, refined, elegant. Everything Kara wasn’t.

“Lee,” she squeezed his shoulders and he pulled back to look at her. “Wait, what about Gianne? You… you were going to marry her. You love her. Gianne is—”

 “Gianne ‘sperfect. ” He spat out, the exhale on the p sound making a strand of her hair flip. He looked down at her, eyes half-lidded, brow creased in concentration, his mouth drawn in a frown. “Everythin’ s’always so perfect with her.”

Something tore at her at the words, at the look on his face as he mumbled them, and Kara’s eyes stung. She knew with cold certainty this was a bad idea. She wanted him, and yeah, maybe she loved him, but she still had enough pride not to be anyone’s second choice. Besides, even if there wasn’t Gianne in the picture, this had the potential to ruin everything. They were good. Well, they were okay. She could live with things the way they were. There was too much at stake to risk it all on a drunk indiscretion that he might not even remember tomorrow.  She gave Lee a hard enough shove to rock him back and slid out from under him, scrambling off the bed.

“Where ya goin’?” Lee sat up, eyes clouded with confusion. His skin was flushed, hair disheveled, and Kara had to shut her eyes for a second to stop herself from climbing back onto the bed.

 She paused. “You’re gonna regret a lot of things tomorrow, I’m pretty sure.” Kara felt her throat tighten and she shook her head. “I don’t want to be one of them.”

He called after her, but she ignored it, scooping up her coat and slipping out of the room. She refused to think about the things she’d be regretting tomorrow. Kara headed for the open doors of a waiting elevator and stepped in, punching the button for the lobby. Oblivion was only a hotel bar away.

***

Three beers later, she knew her plan was a wash. No matter how much she drank, she couldn’t drive the taste of him away. Every time Kara closed her eyes, she saw Lee’s face right before he’d leaned in and kissed her. She kept replaying it, looking for signs that it was more than just a drunken hookup with the nearest warm body. Kara scrubbed a hand over her face. She had to stop this. She had to try to forget.

She lifted her beer and downed the last of it, when an oily voice cut into her thoughts. “Drinking alone, Ms. Thrace?”

Kara placed the beer bottle on the counter and grimaced before she turned towards the rapidly approaching Gaius Baltar. Great. Now she had to deal with this tool.

“You see anyone else sitting here?” she asked, gesturing with the empty bottle at the stools around her.

“No, I do not, which is quite perplexing.” He flashed her a smile that he no doubt thought was charming. “Because I can’t believe there are men stupid enough in this hotel to let a lady such as yourself drink alone.”

Kara rolled her eyes, though she begrudgingly gave him an A for effort. This guy didn’t quit. “Well, I think you might just be the first person to ever call me a lady, so…” She shrugged.

“I’d say that’s their loss then. May I buy you a drink?”

Kara thought for a second, but was surprised to find she didn’t feel the need to scare him away. Hell, she could afford the distraction. And if he was buying, she was drinking. She gestured to the empty chair next to her.  

Gaius sat down and flagged the bartender ordering a glass of scotch for himself and another beer for Kara. When the drinks were delivered, he took his and handed Kara hers, but didn’t let go of the bottle. She looked at him expectantly. “We should toast to our mutual success.”

Kara nodded obligingly. Gaius and Anastasia had won gold. He let go of the bottle and held his glass up. “Here is to your amazing, and record-setting might I add, quadruple jump. Here is to my first gold medal, and to those blasted German skating machines finally proving they’re human after all.” They both smiled at that. “And here is to the US National Figure Skating team. May we find equally good fortune in France!” They clinked glass to glass and drank.

“Mmm, except next time?  _We’re_  taking the gold.” Kara smirked.

“Oh really? Well, that’s quite the challenge.” Gaius smiled slyly. “You must be quite confident.”

“I don’t like to lose.”

“Neither do I.”

Something passed between them for a moment and Gaius looked at her appreciatively, then dug into his jacket pocket, pulling out a a small case and a lighter. He popped it open and pulled a thin cigarillo from the interior. “May I interest you? It’s hand-rolled from some of the finest fumarello leaf on Cuba.” Gaius picked one out and lit it, taking a deep draw that sent a plume of rich smoke her way.

The aroma was tempting. Kara hadn’t had a cigar in months what with training. “You can’t smoke in here.”

He shot a wink at the bartender , who smiled and deliberately turned away. “Yes, well, without a little risk, life would be so dull wouldn’t it?”

Charmed in spite of herself, Kara took one of the cigars, and leaned into Gaius so he could light it for her. Aside from the silly hair, he wasn’t a bad-looking man, and clearly, he knew how to skate. His style was different from Lee’s, far more showy and dramatic, but he had a certain  _flair_. Maybe it was what she needed to just work this tension out of her system. It would be a way of forgetting. He was nothing like Lee at all.

“So you didn’t answer my question? What’s a stunning and talented woman like yourself doing, drinking alone at the bar in the middle of the night? That partner of yours isn’t afraid someone might come along and steal you away?”

That partner of hers was probably drunk-dialing his perfect ex-girlfriend right now and begging her to come back, she thought with a pang. “We’re….not together.”

“Really? Well. Perhaps Lee Adama is an even bigger fool than I thought.”

 Kara swallowed hard, studying his face for a long moment, looking for signs that he was playing her. “Does this usually work for you? All this...smoke-blowing?” she said, a hint of sarcasm behind the tentative words.

“The only smoke here, Kara, is from the cigars,” Gaius said, the picture of innocence. “You are truly… _perfect_. And any man who can’t see that, well, he must be blind.“

Her eyes widened. “Wha-what did you just say?”

“You’re perfect.”

Kara just stared at him for a long moment, then she stubbed out the cigarillo and picked up her beer and drained it, plunking the empty bottle down hard on the bar. She slid off her stool, and stepped directly in front of Gaius, who stared down at her in surprise, a look of anticipation on his face.

“Congratulations, Doc. You just said the magic word. Let’s go.”


	10. Chapter 10

Kara awoke with a start to the sound of a door slamming and noisy voices receding down the hallway outside her room. She blinked, awareness quickly returning as she stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly Kara’s head was flooded with images from the previous night, her heart lurching from elation to horror as her mind cycled through them: skating, medals, drinking, dancing, Lee— _oh God, Lee_ —drinking, smoking, Gaius—OH GOD.

Kara’s head whipped to the side, only to find the covers still tucked in, hospital corners and all. She pushed the sheet and comforter down on her side only to find herself still dressed in her clothes from the night before. Breath rushed back into her lungs as she remembered more, remembered coming up to the room with Gaius, having every intention of sleeping with him to forget. But it hadn’t worked. When she’d closed her eyes, she’d pictured Lee. When he’d kissed her, she couldn’t help but compare. Kara rubbed her forehead and sat up. God, at least she’d put a stop to it before she’d ended up totally embarrassing herself. It’d be just her luck to call out the wrong name at a crucial moment or something.

She winced, lamenting what a mess she’d made of things. Kara still couldn’t believe it had happened. Lee had kissed her. She had kissed him back. They’d almost done a hell of a lot more than kiss. And she’d been desperate enough to go with it, even though she’d thought he was still engaged to Gianne. Pathetic. Maybe Lee had drunk enough that he wouldn’t remember any of it, she thought wistfully.

Unable to stomach dwelling on it any longer, Kara pulled herself out of bed, stripped off her clothes and headed for the shower. Fifteen minutes later, she was rubbing a towel through her wet hair and feeling human enough to contemplate breakfast when she heard a knock at the door. Wrapping another towel around her, she went to answer it, swinging the door open to find, of all people, Gaius Baltar standing there.

Kara’s eyes widened and her throat went dry. She hadn’t exactly let him down easy last night. When the reality of what she was doing and who she was doing it  _with_  sank in, the embarrassment had been all-consuming and she’d pretty much shoved Gaius out the door in record time. Kara had figured she wouldn’t have to deal with him again until the Olympics anyway. But now he was standing here, and she had no idea why.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

 “Well, good morning to you, too.” Gaius arched an eyebrow and sniffed. “I seem to have misplaced my lighter and I thought, perhaps, with the hasty exit you insisted I make last night, it got left behind.”

Kara stared at him blankly.

“May I come in and look for it?” He said, slowly and overly loud, as if he was speaking to a small child.

She paused, wanting to say no, but feeling a twinge of guilt. It really wasn’t his fault that she’d been feeling weak and vulnerable and having a momentary lapse of sanity. Kara opened the door wider. “Knock yourself out.”

He swept by her, gaze raking dismissively over her now, and Kara let the door close and crossed her arms over her towel-clad chest, wishing she’d bothered to put clothes on before answering. So much for  _perfection_ , she thought bitterly for a second.

Awkward silence fell as Gaius poked around various corners of the room, until he finally found the lighter and swiped it off the floor near the desk chair. “Must have bounced out of my coat pocket,” he said, moving back towards her and the door. “I’ll be going now, shall I?” His chin was high, but the words were thin, reedy with a touch of petulance, and something else—almost a neediness—that reminded Kara of Hera when she was overdue for her nap.

She reached for the door handle swinging it open, but then sighed and pivoted in the open doorway.  Gaius was a little unctuous but she probably owed the man some sort of explanation. “Look, about last night, I was drunk and feeling sorry for myself. And you just happened to come along at the right time.” Kara paused. “Or the wrong time. Whatever. Point is, I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to—” she stopped, before she said too much. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

Gaius eyed her, nodded once in acknowledgment. “I appreciate that,” he said, as the stiff set of his shoulders eased a little. “I suppose this is my cue to confess that I did have an inkling that when you kissed me, you were, perhaps, wishing I was…” he paused, the words carefully picked out, “ _someone else_.” Kara swallowed hard, humiliation churning her insides. “Not that such a thing has ever happened to me before, of course,” Gaius murmured dryly, but then rolled his eyes a bit, making a joke of it.

Kara relaxed finally, and smiled a little in spite of herself. He wasn’t that bad a guy. “What do you say we make a pact: It never happened. We start over. Friends?” She stuck a hand out to Gaius.

He looked at her, surprised, but squeezed Kara’s hand. “Indeed. I think—” he paused suddenly, his eyes flitting away from hers for a second and then he raised her hand to his lips, kissing it. Kara frowned. Was this a thing with him? The kissing people’s hands?  “We both know just how much last night really meant.”

Kara’s eyebrows rose, but before she could say anything, Gaius dropped her hand and brushed past her out the door. “Pardon me,” he said, but he was already behind her so she didn’t know why he was… Suddenly Kara’s stomach plummeted with realization, and she knew, she knew before she even turned what she was going to find.

Lee. Standing in the doorway, staring at her in shock, Gaius gone. Kara realized in a flash how it must have looked. Him with the elaborate gesture and showy words, her  _still in a fricking towel._ Humiliation rendered her speechless and she could only stare, watching as Lee’s expressions cycled from shock to confusion to hurt, then finally stormed over completely with anger.  He turned sharply then and started marching down the hall, and without a thought, Kara cursed and ran after him.

“Lee, wait, it’s not—”

He reached the open elevator and stepped in, whirled around.”Don’t! Don’t even try it! God! To think I was coming to apologize!”

She ran in after him. “But—”

“But what? It’s not what it looks like? It’s not what I think? You didn’t run out on me last night, so you could meet up with  _him?_ ” Lee stabbed at buttons on the elevator panel. “ _Gaius Fucking Baltar,”_ he snarled angrily and the elevator lurched into motion. “Tell me, Kara, did you pick him purposely, because you knew how much I can’t fucking stand the guy, or was it all a happy accident and he was just the nearest warm body?”

Kara gaped at him, unable to believe this. Her temper revved from zero to sixty. “What?! Wait just one second! Were you or were you not engaged to be married until last night?”

His face took on a stubborn, mulish look and his jaw tightened. “That’s hardly the point.”

She shook her head, a low murderous laugh echoing from her throat.

“You fucking hypocrite!”

“Hypocrite!?” Lee’s brow creased, his head jerking back. “How am I a hypocrite?!”

“Oh, let’s see," she sneered. ' _You_  get drunk and  _I_  happen to be the closest warm body, so you think, what the hell, she’ll do? And I’m just supposed to roll over and thank my lucky stars?” 

“Well, really, who knew you were so picky?” he stepped closer, his face twisting unpleasantly. “Because, first Alex, now Gaius…”  

White-hot anger rushed through her and she stepped forward too. “You son of a bitch. So what? That means I should have noproblem being your  _consolation prize_?”

Lee leaned in, spitting in her face practically. “That means I think the only problem you have is  _finding your zipper fast enough_.”

His words cracked through the air in the small confined space and without even realizing it, Kara’s hand raised, a sharp stinging slap landing across Lee’s cheek. His head rocked to the side and froze there for a few seconds. When he turned back, his face was no longer angry but full of hurt and shock.  

Kara swallowed hard, tamping down her own shock and her own hurt. A lump was forming in her throat the size of boulder. She shook her head. “Nice to know what you really think of me finally, Lee.” Suddenly Kara just needed to get away. She couldn’t stand here while everything between them fractured into a million pieces. So she turned and stabbed the emergency stop button. The elevator screeched to a halt, the doors sliding open, and Kara lunged for freedom.  

“Kara! Wait!”

“God! What?” she whirled, her voice shaking on the words. “What do you want from me, Lee?”

Her frustrated cry hung in the air and Lee just stared at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Saying nothing. Again.

“Yeah,” Kara said, quieter now, the words turning bitter on her tongue. “That’s what I thought.”  She turned away, stumbling blindly out of the elevator onto some unknown floor. Behind her it was quiet; Lee didn’t call after her this time, and Kara kept going, passing hotel guests shooting her funny looks until she reached the far end of the hall, and could go no further. Kara slid down the wall, arms wrapped around her middle, and closed her eyes. Her palm still hurt from the slap.

She wished it was the only thing that did.

****

Kara stood on the ice, arms crossed, her back to Lee as they waited for Laura. All of her hurt and weariness and regret had turned into fury as she sat in that hallway in the hotel yesterday, replaying their argument in her head.

Her anger had crystallized into a brittle resentment, and Lee’s ability to hold a grudge was apparently as stalwart as ever. They’d run separately, done warm-ups in opposite corners of the rink, and now silence reigned as they waited for the coach. Just when it was starting to feel unbearably awkward, Roslin entered the rink, her heeled boots tapping loudly on the floor as she came to the boards. Her gaze flicked between her students, one artfully plucked brow rising as she took in their mirror image postures.

“I see the cold war continues.” Perceptive as ever, Laura had picked up on the vibes as they got on the plane yesterday and asked Kara what was going on, but she’d shrugged it off, slipping earphones in and feigning sleep for the flight’s duration to evade conversation.

“Well, I don’t know whatever little problem this is, and I don’t particularly care,” the coach’s voice was sharp, no-nonsense. “Because we are going to skip the little problem and worry about the big problem.”

Curiosity piqued Kara’s interest and she flicked a glance over to where Laura was pulling out some papers and stepping on to the ice.

“And what is this big problem, Coach, you might ask?” Laura mockingly said, as she walked over to a spot between them and dropped a sheet of paper to the ice. “The Cavills.” She walked another few feet in Lee’s direction and dropped another piece. “Ellen and John. The French mother-and-son team.”

Kara grimaced. God, she’d thought the Lederhosen twins were bad! But mother and son was way worse than brother and sister.

“Last night they won the European championships with perfect scores. Everyone was blown away. Calling them a lock for the Gold at the Olympics. Competition over.”

Laura’s voice was unnervingly matter-of-fact and Kara scowled, her competitive side flaring to life. There was no way some French bastards were gonna take this. They had to win. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

“Of course, “ Laura continued, “there is one possible solution.” She paused. “But it’s probably too dangerous.”

The words got her moving, as the coach probably knew they would, and Kara skated to the papers lying on the ice. She picked one up and studied the illustrations and notes scribbled on the page. The paper was yellowed with age and erasure marks showed on the fine grain. She looked at Laura. “What is this?”

The coach smiled. “Something I’ve been working on for quite a while, actually.”

Kara looked back to the page, an eyebrow arching as she read the notes. “Is this—Is this a bounce spin into a throw twist?”

Laura nodded and opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly a whoosh of blades on ice interrupted them and Lee skated up to Kara’s side, looking over her shoulder at the page. “You can’t do that!”

The coach ignored Lee momentarily. “The key to this is the release. It has to be perfectly timed and executed with the utmost of power and precision. There can be no halfway. It requires total commitment.”

“This is illegal!” Lee shouted at Laura, whose lips pressed together briefly then she relaxed again.

“Legal, illegal, it’s a bit of a gray area.”

The excitement was already building in Kara, coursing through her veins. “A bounce spin into a throw twist and then he catches me?”

“Basically, yes.”

Like an annoying parrot in her ear, Lee squawked again, “We can’t do this!”

Laura blew out a soundless breath and Kara caught her eyes rolling slightly before she turned to Lee. “And why not? We have all the pieces. The two of you are—”

“It’s not right. Even if the new rules don’t specifically outlaw it, there’s no way the judges—”

“Sometimes it’s not about being right, Leland,” Laura cut in, exasperation lacing her tone. “It’s about being smart. If this were a completely legal move, the degree of difficulty would be off the charts.” She looked at them both, her gaze swinging evenly between Kara and Lee. “And if the two of you can pull this off, then I’m betting that the judges will see that and score you accordingly.”

Lee’s mouth opened again as if to protest, but Laura held up a hand. “Now, I will grant you that it is a risk, but I can assure you both that it is most definitely a calculated one. I would never compromise the success of this team with a half-assed plan, and I think you both know that.” She paused. “So what do you say?”

Kara looked at her coach and she got it. Laura Roslin was asking them to trust her. Kara didn’t have to think twice about her answer. The woman had never steered her wrong yet. “The Roslin Twist,” she grinned. “That’s what we’ll call it.”

Laura smiled back at her, but Lee, who’d been grabbing and studying the other pages with furrowed brow, burst out. “No! Absolutely not! “

She met Lee’s eyes for the first time in more than 24 hours. “My God! What is your problem?” Kara snapped. “You want it named after you?”

His jaw clenched, the muscle bulging. “We have five weeks to the Olympics. Changing things now can only mean disaster.”

Laura sighed, watching the angry interchange. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is a mistake. The timing isn’t right.”

“No! No, wait a minute. Just because the ice prince here is so attached to the way it’s always been…” she scoffed. “He’s afraid to put it all on the line, so we’re just gonna back down? NO!” She tapped the paper. “This is good stuff.  _I_  can do this.”

“And you think I can't?”

“Hey, if the yellow stripe up your back fits…”

“I have been competing for 15 years. There isn’t a move out there that I can’t do!” he roared, getting in her face. Lee was close enough that she could smell his aftershave, and beneath it, his own scent. A rush of memories of their aborted celebration flooded her brain, and involuntarily, Kara felt her pulse quicken, her blood rushing with exhilaration, anticipation.

“But just because I  _can_  do it, doesn’t mean I  _should_. “ Lee shook his head, his face softening and losing some of its anger. “Kara, if we give this a shot, and we blow it? We lose. It’s all over.”

She took a breath, wondering if she even knew which of their issues they were arguing about anymore. Hell, did it even matter? Kara locked eyes with him, silently imploring. “And if we don’t give it a shot, Lee? What do we lose then?”

He just stared at her for a moment, then shook his head again, turning his back and skating away.  

Bitterness and frustration welled up in Kara’s chest. “Don't quit your day job,” she called after him, biting the words off deliberately, the vowels dripping with sarcasm.

Lee froze, and just stood there on the ice, back to them for a long moment. Finally he turned, skated back, his face hard again. He glared at Kara then cut his eyes to Laura. “Where do we start?”

***

Three weeks. It’d been three weeks of intense practice. Their normal eight hours a day, plus overtime practicing the big move. The momentum and timing required to launch her into the throw and allow Lee to skate into position to catch her nearly defied physics. It was hard work, made no easier by their complete and continued lack of communication. Instructions were addressed to Laura, or muttered through gritted teeth. Even with the practice mats they’d laid on the ice, Kara’s back and shoulders and arms were aching, mottled with bruises. She sank into the warm water of the bathtub with a hiss, then a sigh of relaxation. Tilting her neck back with a groan, Kara’s eyes fluttered closed and she zoned out, clearing her mind of everything.

She was startled out of her blissful oblivion by the phone ringing. Kara was tempted to let it go, but she’d missed a call from Sharon earlier and it’d been too long since she’d talked to them. Before Nationals. She sat up, groping for the phone perched safely beyond the tub’s splash zone and saw the familiar name in the display and tapped the answer button.

“Hey,”

“Hey yourself,  _bronze medal champion_!” Sharon’s peppy voice sounded in her ear. “What are you, too big for us little people these days?”

“Sorry! It’s just been hectic. We’ve got a new move we’re trying to learn in time for the Games and it’s a tough one. Lots of overtime.” The excuses sounded lame even to her ears, but luckily Sharon didn’t seem to notice.

“God, you guys were amazing! I can’t believe you didn’t win the whole thing. Those judges must be friggin’ blind!” She chattered on, and Kara closed her eyes again. She could picture Sharon curled up on the beat-up couch in the living room, Hera playing on the worn rug and a wave of homesickness twisted her stomach. She missed them so much.

“Have you checked the Facebook page? People went nuts when you hit that quad jump. You guys have over a thousand new—” She cut off and Kara could hear her talking on the other end. “Oh wait a sec, Hera wants to talk to you.”

“Auntie Kara!” The high-pitched voice of her niece was music to her ears. “When you come home?

“Next month, baby.” After the Olympics, no matter the outcome, Kara was taking some time, going home for a while. 

Of course, it occurred suddenly to her that if they didn’t win, she’d probably be dismissed anyway. Fired, in search of another go-to girl. Home for good. 

“Unca Lee skate with me!”

“Uh, we’ll see, sweetie.” She winced. “He might have to stay here. With his family.”

“No! You bring him! We play horsie!” The girl giggled, chanting “giddyup, giddyup”, until Sharon wrangled the phone back from her.

“So….no Lee?”

Kara grimaced, knowing it was too much to hope Sharon had missed overhearing that little exchange. “We’re…uh…not exactly speaking at the moment.”

“Oh, this oughta be good.”

“Sharon!”

“Come onnn,” she whined. “I’m old and married! I gotta live vicariously through your drama. What’s going on now? Did rich bitch girlfriend get the heave-ho? Did you two finally give in and do the deed? Spill it!”

Kara sighed, loath to admit anything, but knowing Sharon would be relentless until she told her. “We, uh, maybe,  kind’ve, uh, celebrated a little too much at Nationals.”

Over the phone line, Sharon hooted. “SCANDALOUS! Finally!”

“Don’t get too excited,” Kara warned. “It ended pretty much before it began. He was drunk and maudlin, and practically weeping over the ex.”

“Oh,” she said, her tone deflating, switching to concern. “Oh Kara…”

“Oh, there’s more,” she said, kind of warming to the topic now. “I went to the bar right after that, and I wasn’t thinking straight and I left with this other guy, this skater that Lee’s got some kind of grudge match with.”

“Oh boy…” 

“I  _didn’t_  sleep with him, but Lee saw us the next morning and jumped to all these conclusions and was a general prick about it. Needless to say, I didn’t bother to set him straight because I was so pissed. Besides, he wouldn’t fucking listen at all, pretty much called me a slut, and I smacked him…” Kara sighed.

“Oh. Oh dear.”

“Yeah. God, you know, it’s not like it’s any of his damn business, _anyway_ , and now…” her rant suddenly ran out of steam. “Well, now it’s a mess.”

Silence answered her.

“Sharon? You there?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how glad I am to be old and married, actually.”

“Thanks,” Kara rolled her eyes at the phone.

“Hey, look, it’ll blow over right? You guys have the Olympics coming up! That’s bigger than any stupid fight.”

“Yeah, I know.” But inwardly Kara wondered if they’d be able to really get past this.

“You need to work it out with him.”

“But why should I apologize?! He was the total jerk.”

“Maybe, but if you’re waiting for him to do it…” she sighed. “Just trust me, men never think they’re wrong.”

Kara smiled a little at that, finally. “Is that a dig at my brother?”

“Please,” she made a  _pfft_  sound. “He still won’t admit the Helo sign was a bad idea!” They both laughed, and then Sharon’s voice turned sly. “So…was it good? I mean, the  _celebrating_? Before he started with the emo stuff?”

Kara let her mind flicker back through that night. Just the memory of the sensations instantly made her skin prickle. She sighed. “You have no idea.”

Sharon laughed on the other end. “Then I say let bygones be bygones and get horizontal with that boy again as soon as you can.”

“Yeah, well, easier said than done.” Kara said dryly. “But aren’t you just full of helpful advice?

“That’s what sisters are for, right?” Sharon laughed. “Crap it’s getting late, I better go. Hey, don’t be a stranger, huh? I want updates!”

Kara promised to call the next week, and they hung up. The bathwater had grown tepid, but she sat for a few more minutes, considering Sharon’s words. Maybe she should extend the olive branch, even though the idea of it annoyed her. Still, it wasn’t like their skating was getting better with this little rift. If they wanted to nail the Twist, talking to one another might be a start.  The image of Lee’s angry face, self-righteous and smug, ran through her mind again though. 

With a cry of frustration, Kara sank down, sliding under the cool water, wishing it could wash away the mess inside her head too.

*** “Stop! Stop. We’re just-- we’re never going to get this.” Lee bent forward on the ice, hands on his knees his breathing heavy. “We’ve only got a week left. It’s too risky. We have to cut it.”

“Oh come on! We take risks every time we’re out here.” Kara raised an arm, swiping it across her sweaty forehead. She’d been surprised when Lee had asked her at the end of practice yesterday to meet him an hour before their usual start time with Roslin. Since she’d talked to Sharon, she hadn’t found an opening to even try smoothing things over. Kara had thought maybe this morning was going to be her chance to clear the air, but she’d been sorely mistaken.  He’d snapped at her for being a whole five minutes late, which hadn’t put her in a very forgiving mood, and things had spiraled downward from there.

“You’re holding back!” Kara accused now, wincing as she picked herself up off the ice for the umpteenth time that day.

Lee glared at her. “If I spin any faster, I’ll be plowing through the rink with your head.”

“Well, then I’m surprised you’re not jumping at the chance,” she muttered, rolling her eyes, as she glided back into starting position. Her leg twitched suddenly, and she hurried to straighten it, but her reflexes were too slow.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

“It’s nothing. It’s fine. Let’s go.”

“God, you are so damn stubborn,” he seethed, eyes flashing. “I know you’re all about laughing in the face of danger, Kara, but if you’re hurt, we need to—“

“What we need to do?” she interjected. “Is get this damn move already!”

Lee just glowered at her in response.

She sighed and raked her hands through her hair. “Look, what if we changed it up a little? What if, instead of grabbing  _here_ , you grab here?” Kara demonstrated on her own leg. “You’ll have more leverage and can lift me higher.”

 He looked like he was actually considering it for a second. “Could work.” Then his face took on that mulish cast again. “Could get you killed.”

She rolled her eyes. “Or injured and then I couldn’t skate at all and where would that leave you… Yeah, yeah. I know the speech, Lee, I’ve heard it enough.”

His jaw tightened again, muscle jumping, but Lee grabbed her this time, hands closing tight on her biceps. “Have you, Kara? Because you sure as hell don’t seem to be listening! Forget skating. We do this wrong and your skull could crack. Hell, your neck could snap!” His fingers were like vise grips on her upper arms and Lee pulled her closer. She could see the thin red bloodshot lines in his eyes. “You keep pushing and pushing! And I am  _fucking terrified_  that I will hurt you if I mess this up.”

The last few words echoed off the rink walls and Lee froze, his eyes widened in surprise at what he’d just said. So did Kara’s. She stared at him, shocked to the core by his outburst. His cheeks colored suddenly and Lee broke the contact, his gaze dropping, fingers easing their hold and his hands sliding away.

“Lee,” Kara said, her voice soft but firm, full of determination, “You won’t let me fall.” Slowly, his head lifted, eyes finding hers again. Kara swallowed hard, wondering if he would bolt or she would, but the moment stuck. Maybe things were a mess between them, but this was still true. She might not trust him with her heart, but she’d trust him with her life, ironic as it was.  

Just seconds later, the big door screeched open with a grind of the gears announcing Laura’s arrival.

“Good, you’re both here already! We have a lot of ground to cover. I see you’re warmed up. Ready to get started?”

Kara looked back to Lee, who nodded slowly.

“Ready.”

Five hours later, amid cries from Laura of  _Higher! We need an explosion!_  and  _The release must be perfect!,_  they’d finally made some improvement. The revision on the hold helped Lee steady the swing somewhat. But still, they were having trouble getting the release right. Kara’s body was a mass of aches and pains. She gritted her teeth and slowly climbed off the ice one more time.

Laura was watching her with eagle eyes, and when Kara’s leg twinged again, she caught it. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

“Your leg—”

“It’s fine! “

“Maybe we  _should_  stop,” Lee cut in, looking fairly exhausted himself. “My arms are about to give out anyway.”

“Come on, we can’t give up! We almost had it!” They were so close. If she could just hold on for a few more, maybe they could get it. And then, stupid hope though it may be, Kara felt like everything else might also fall into place too. “Let’s keep going. Please.”

Laura paused and tilted her head toward Lee. “It’s your call.”

After a few seconds, he said, “Once more. Then we’re done for the day.”

They started skating, Lee grasping one of Kara’s legs as they start to spin faster. Her other leg lifted off the ice and hooked over her first, and Lee supported her, turning faster and faster. Then just a few seconds before they launched into the throw, his grip suddenly broke. Kara went flying across the ice, her knee and shoulder banging painfully into the floor. 

She let out an involuntary cry of pain, sprawled on the ice and seeing stars. Kara heard noises and then Lee dropped heavily to his knees on the ice next to her.  “Kara!” There was a frantic note in his voice as he called her name. Laura crossed the ice, looking worried, squatting down and running hands over her looking for injuries.  “I’m alright, lemme up.”  They moved back to give her room and Kara rolled onto her stomach and tried to push herself up. Her aching leg gave out under her and she fell back to the ice. Pain throbbed in her thigh and Kara had to bite her lip not to cry out again.

“Maybe you shouldn’t move,” Laura started, concerned.

“Just- just give me a minute.”

“I knew it. I knew you were pushing way too hard again,” Lee swore above her.

“I’m—I’m good,” Kara insisted, even though it came out shaky. She pressed hard against the ice, struggling to pull her legs under her. “One more time.” She levered herself up, and then her legs, her traitorous legs, slid out from under her again.

“God, you are beyond insane!” Lee yelled. And then he was leaning over her, and suddenly, instead of ice under her, there was air. He hauled her up, high against his chest, one arm slung under her knees, the other wrapped around her back.

“Let’s take her to the carriage house,” she heard Laura say. “I want the doctor to look her over, just in case.”

“I can go myself,” Kara protested. “Put me down!”

“You can’t even stand up!”

 “Well, if you just gave me another minute—”

“Kara? Shut up!” Her mouth closed with a snap, and Lee clutched her tighter in his arms as if she might try to jump out of them. She was angry but it was hard to protest with the warmth of his chest pressed against her side. A wave of exhaustion was pulling at Kara suddenly, and her head started to sag against Lee’s shoulder. She tried to fight it, but she must have succumbed because the next thing she knew, she was opening her eyes as Lee laid her on her own bed in her room. His face was so close that her breath caught suddenly, remembering the last time they’d been in this position. But then his arms slid out from under her and Lee backed away from the bed as if it might reach out and bite him.

She frowned but was distracted when Laura started quizzing her on what hurt. Kara answered as patiently as possible, even though she knew this was unnecessary. She was fine; why didn’t anyone believe her?

“Maybe because you haven’t been exactly truthful with us so far on that front?” The coach asked dryly. “You need to be checked. Make sure you didn’t injure anything important,” Laura eyed her sternly. “Lee, you keep an eye on the patient while I go call for Dr. Cottle. And if she makes any moves to get out of that bed, you have my permission to take whatever means necessary to restrain her!”

Kara grimaced as Laura sailed out of the room. She had no love for the crotchety old coot, but she wasn’t about to incur the wrath of Laura Roslin. She had no doubts that woman could be ruthless when crossed.  She settled back on the pillows, trying to find a comfortable position.

Across the room, Lee stood awkwardly. He settled down gingerly on the window seat, elbows on his knees, hands steepled in front of him. His eyes traveled around the room, Kara noticed, as if he’d never been there before. He seemed determined to focus on anything but her. Kara was at a loss for what to say too, though, and silence fell heavily and conspicuously between them.

Then his gaze stopped on her dresser, caught by something. Curious, she turned her head. It was the picture of her on the ice. Suddenly, she remembered their discussion about it from months ago, before they went to Boston. Then her brain filled with other memories, from their trip, and a wave of longing pierced her so sharply she had to close her eyes. It had been so simple then, and everything was so very screwed up now.

Lee cleared his throat. She opened her eyes again to see him half-crouching out of the chair. “You should probably rest…” he was rising, rising and stepping towards the door, and a sudden desperation tugged at Kara, “and I should probably just—”

 _“Ididn’tsleepwithhim.”_

Lee’s eyes popped open wide at her hastily and unexpectedly blurted words. “Wha-What?”

Kara swallowed hard, unable to believe she’d said it. Still, it was out now. She might as well finish. “I didn’t sleep with him.  _Gaius_.”

He stared at her uncomprehendingly. “But you were—” he paused, his brow creasing. “And I heard him say—”

“Yeah, because he saw you and wanted to piss you off.” She sighed. “Which apparently worked like gangbusters, since you were a total asshat about it. Oh, and for the record? I didn’t sleep with Alex either.” His eyebrows rose, his face alight with surprise, and Kara scowled, adding, “Not that I need to explain myself to you.”

“I- I know that.”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t owe you anything,” she said, voice rising.

“You’re right,” Lee said softly, taking the wind out of her sails slightly. He shook his head. “Look, what I said was… I didn’t mean to…,” he paused, struggling for words. “My head was a mess. And I guess I thought that maybe we….” his halting dialogue paused and Kara sat up straighter, all ears, but Lee just drew a deep breath. “Anyway, I was way out of line.”

Deflating slightly, she settled back against the pillows. “Damn straight you were.”

His lips curved slightly at that, but the look Lee gave her was serious, hesitant . “So...why  _did_ you tell me?

“I dunno, maybe because we’re a mess?” she shrugged, uncomfortable. “Our skating’s off, we’re jumping down each other’s throats all the time,” she sighed. “Everything’s just gotten so… _complicated_.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it  _was_  true. “Remember Boston?”

“Yeah.”

“I miss that.”

“Me too,” he answered, the words coming quickly. “I miss it too.”

Relief filled her and Kara took a breath. It felt like someone had just lifted a boulder off her shoulders. “So…are we okay now?”

Lee didn’t answer. He stood up and came closer, sinking down on the edge of the bed facing her, his expression serious. “Ever since I was a kid, my father’s had all these expectations for me, you know? What I should be doing, the way I should be doing it. He had it all planned out. Like a big road map leading to one place: The Olympics.”

Kara stared at him in surprise, wondering what had prompted this confession.

“Train harder, win the competition, fill the glass box…” his mouth twisted wryly, “marry the right girl. He introduced me to Gianne.” He shook his head. “I never really realized it, but she had just as many expectations as my dad did. Everything was so  _perfect_  with her all the time.  _I_  had to be perfect.”

The familiar words tumbled into place in Kara’s brain and her mouth gaped slightly. Lee looked up and caught her expression, frowning. “What?”

“Nothing. I, uh, I get it.” She took a deep breath, her mind reeling. “Go on.”

“Anyway, then…” he tilted his head, “you happened.”

Kara’s pulse skipped. “What?”

His eyes were locked on hers, blue and intense. “You walked into my rink and you upset my neat, little apple cart. Questioning absolutely everything right from the start. Why is it like this? Why can’t we do that instead? That plan sucks!” Lee smirked and shook his head. “God, I hated you for that.”

“Everyone’s got a skill,” Kara muttered, but Lee didn’t seem to hear her.

“You were my worst nightmare. Undisciplined, reckless, a skating rebel without a cause,” Lee mocked gently. “And my Dad and Laura…everybody  _loved_  you for it.”

“Look, I didn’t exactly plan—” she started to protest.

“No, I know. But that’s exactly it, Kara. There was no plan! You just did whatever you wanted and you got away with it. You didn’t give a damn about the rules.” He shook his head, letting out a shallow chuckle. “You changedeverything _._ You changed  _me_.”

Kara’s breath caught and she stared at him, speechless.

Lee reached out and picked up her hand, squeezing it in his own. “Kara, you asked me once if this was what I wanted. For the rest of my life,” he said, serious eyes fixed on hers. Kara remembered. Of course, she’d been talking about Gianne specifically, but now didn’t seem like the time to point that out. “The truth is,” Lee continued, “I didn’t know how to answer you then, because I couldn’t remember the last time anyone asked me what I wanted.”

She nodded, eyes wary even as her heart hammered in her chest. “And now?”

“Now…I’m trying to figure it out,” he sighed. “All I know is I’m not that guy. I’m not perfect, and I can’t pretend anymore.”

He shook his head, earnest and wide-eyed, and Kara squeezed his hand, smiling slightly.

Lee’s lips quirked then too, and he raised an eyebrow. “And maybe, just maybe, there’s something to be said for messy and complicated.”

An answering grin unfurled on Kara’s face and still hung there minutes later when Laura and Dr. Cottle stepped back into the room. Cottle insisted on doing a full examination, ranting about bodies not being made to run so hard for so long, and Lee took that as his exit cue.

“Get some rest, huh? So you can scare the shit out of me again tomorrow.”

He ducked out, but Kara’s grin lasted until she caught Laura looking at her funny. Still, she didn’t complain once as the surly doctor poked and prodded her, and eventually diagnosed her with a case of mild exhaustion and muscle fatigue. Ironic, as she didn’t feel tired at all anymore.  

Kara realized suddenly that Lee hadn’t actually answered her question. But it didn’t matter. Because she already knew the answer.

They weren’t okay. They’d likely never be okay.

They were confusing and exhilarating and frustrating and far from perfect and, probably, a little bit insane.

And she grinned, because she wouldn’t have it any other way.


	11. Chapter 11

Twelve seconds.   
  
The International Skating Union required that all lifts, which the Roslin Twist qualified as, last no longer than twelve seconds.    
  
Twelve seconds for Lee to swing her, throw her, position himself, and catch her.    
  
The twelve most maddeningly elusive seconds of Kara’s life.    
  
As Kara came down from their umpteenth time attempting the Twist that day, her elbow jostled Lee’s shoulder and threw her off-balance as he clutched for her. They awkwardly sprawled into a landing that was so far from clean they actually had to stop and untangle themselves.   
  
Lee cursed under his breath as they separated, and Coach yelled about his timing and positioning needing to be flawless. Next to Laura at the boards, Bill stood, not saying a word, but watching them with a furrowed brow and a scrutinizing gaze.   
  
They tried again, and again they were off-kilter, landing in a sprawling heap on the rink. “Damn it!” Lee hollered, banging a hand down hard on the ice, as Kara rolled off him and got to her feet again. She knew how he felt. She was tired and frustrated, too. They’d practiced hard all week, but they just couldn’t seem to get the split-second timing right.    
  
Now there was just 12 hours left before they stepped onto a plane to France.   
  
“Lee, c’mon, we can get this,” Kara insisted, noting the scowl on his face. “Maybe if we—”   
  
“If we had another six months?” he grimaced as he skated over to the boards and picked up his water bottle. “We’ve done this a hundred times, Kara. It’s useless,” His eyes flicked over to where their Coach was standing down the boards, talking quietly to his father. “I think we should tell Laura that we need to take it out of the program.”    
  
“What?! No! What we  _need_  is to kick a little ass!” Kara followed, rounding on him. “If we want the gold, we have to get this. This is our secret weapon, Lee. We clinch with this move!”    
  
He shook his head, mumbling under his breath, “Or become the laughingstock of the sport.”    
  
Kara bit back a groan of frustration. Lee was always a pragmatist, worried about the risk and the consequences of everything, but she’d lost track of the number of times she’d heard “can’t” come from those lips this week. He’d never been this negative about their chances before. Not since their early days anyway. Hell, he had been the one who’d pep-talked her most of the way here. And now…now he was acting like a deflated balloon. For a second Kara was actually nostalgic for that cocksure, confident ice god who’d driven her nuts.    
  
“OK, what is up with you?” She demanded, hands on her hips as she crowded into his personal space.    
  
“What?! Nothing’s up with me,” he frowned and glided a step back.   
  
Kara skated a step forward. “Bullshit. Something has you spooked and I want to know what it is.” She reached for the water bottle he was clenching, and tugged it out of his hand, lifting it and taking a long swallow, even while she kept her eyes trained on Lee.   
  
He shifted, and his gaze skipped away from hers for a minute, flitting over to where Roslin and his father were talking. Kara didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched slightly.  _Bingo_ , she thought, even as Lee said, “It’s nothing. C’mon, let’s skate.” He took off for center rink and Kara tossed the water bottle down and followed.    
  
“So the Old Man’s been here almost every day this week,” she said, slowly, mildly, trying to draw him out.    
  
“Yup.” Lee’s lips were pressed into a grim line.    
  
“Funny, I figured he’d be burning the midnight oil before we leave tomorrow.”   
  
A muscle jumped in Lee’s jaw as he spoke. “Well, he probably cleared his schedule so he’d have plenty of time to detail exactly how I’ll be disgracing the family name if we don’t win.”    
  
Kara stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Bill was difficult, sure, but Lee could be worse than a sulking teenager sometimes. “Look, can’t you just… tell him to cut the passive-aggressive crap? Why don’t you just talk to him?”   
  
“Oh, we talk. We talk all the time!” He nodded emphatically. “Sure, every night at dinner, we exhaust the finer points of all the myriad ways I screwed up that day.” Lee smirked grimly, “Not without the standard disclaimer, of course,” he dropped his voice in an imitation of his father’s gruff tone, “ ‘I’m trying to help you here, son. I just want you to be your best.’ ”    
  
Kara sighed. They were both so bad at talking to each other, and both so stubborn. Bill wasn’t going to win Father of the Year anytime soon, but Lee could cut him a little slack on this one. “Well, he’s your Dad, that’s just the kind of shit families always say. ”    
  
“Maybe,” he frowned, but then brightened suddenly. “Hey, so when are Karl and Sharon and Hera getting in?”    
  
“They’re not,” Kara said, shrugging. She was disappointed, but she couldn’t blame them. “International plane tickets aren’t really in the budget.”   
  
The worry line between Lee’s brows deepened, “Kara, you know that I could—”    
  
_Shit._  “I know Lee, but you’ve done enough already. More than enough. They’ll have a better view from their couch than they would up in the nosebleeds anyway, right?”    
  
“But Kara, I want—”   
  
“And  _I_  want you to forget it and focus on this move, alright?”    
  
He sighed, shaking his head, “I just don’t think—”   
  
“Good! DON’T THINK.” She slid closer, her hands on his shoulders. “Stop thinking, Lee. It’s making you doubt yourself. Just forget everything else, alright? Your dad, Coach even. They’re not the ones skating this program.” His head turned slightly, almost instinctively back to where Bill and Laura were standing, and Kara lifted a hand to his jaw, turning him back and forcing him to stay focused on her. “Hey! Right now, all we can count on is you and me. And I  _know_  we can get this.”   
  
He stared at her for a long moment, as his face softened with a combination of surprise and amusement. “Yeah?”    
  
“Yeah,” she breathed, eyes holding his intently, before her lips quirked slightly. “Cause you’re Lee and I’m Kara, and the rest of it isn’t worth a damn, right?”    
  
His eyes widened slightly, and Lee’s face rippled slowly into a smile, as he said softly, “Hey, isn’t that my line?” His gaze was warm as he focused only on Kara, and then he lifted a hand to her waist, his palm sliding around her hip to splay against her lower back. The smile faded away as an intensity stole across his features. His eyelids lowered as his glance flickered down to her mouth, and Kara’s pulse went into overdrive.    
  
Dimly something registered in the far reaches of her brain that this was neither the time nor the place. But it wasn’t the first time since they’d patched things up that she’d felt it. The same full-blown hunger that she’d felt in his hotel room at Nationals was racing through her, lighting her up. And Kara wanted it. Wanted this. Wanted him. She sucked in a breath. Lee’s palm pressed harder against her back, pulling her closer, and her fingers tightened reflexively on his jaw, tugging his chin down to her.    
  
She could already feel his breath on her lips when Bill’s voice suddenly boomed out from the other end of the rink. “Are we talking or skating? Time’s wasting. Let’s get back to work.”   
  
And Lee reared back, his entire face closing down like a shutter being pulled. His hand dropped and his body stiffened. Kara blinked, reality rushing back to her. She looked to Lee, but he was already striding away, that muscle jumping in his jaw once more as he stroked down the ice, his grim game face firmly affixed again. She wasn’t sure if she should curse or cry. Instead, she just swallowed hard, tamping it down like she always did.   
  
The Old Man wasn’t wrong. They had to focus on skating, there was no time for anything else right now. But as she pushed off to catch up to Lee, doubts filled her. If they didn’t nail this move... if they went to the Olympics and didn’t get the gold... what would happen then? She’d been hired to do a job. To get it done. And if they couldn’t...   
  
Well, then maybe they’d never get their timing right.   
  
***   
  
Kara checked her watch, grimacing, and picked up the pace. They’d finished up practice hours ago, the second half no better than the first, and as they’d changed out of their skates, Kara had insisted Lee needed to talk to his father, tell Bill how he was making him feel. Maybe if the Old Man eased up, Lee would calm down, be able to focus. Once they got to France, they’d have four days after the opening ceremonies before the pairs events began. There was still time to perfect the move, solidify everything.   
  
Right now, however, Kara was nearly out of time. It was almost midnight. Their flight left in eight hours, and like usual, she’d left packing to beyond the last minute. Laura was already asleep, so she tried to be stealthy as she hurried into the living room and grabbed a few DVDs off the shelf for the plane ride. The cramped writing on one of the spines caught her eye. It simply said Calgary. Curiosity piqued, she plucked it off the shelf and shoved it into the DVD player, turning the TV on and bumping the sound down low.    
  
Kara recognized the footage almost immediately. It was the last Olympic Games. That arena had starred in a hundred nightmares. And there was Lee, looking just like he had when she’d seen the routine on a YouTube vid one night back when they first started skating together. She smirked. He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his costume, the fabric of which appeared to be bedazzled within an inch of its life.    
  
She watched as the camera angle widened to encompass Anastasia Dualla, looking polished and completely at ease. The music started and they moved gracefully through the routine until they came to a routine dismount from a lasso lift. She winced, knowing what was coming next, Anastasia taking the big fall that cost them the medal. But to her surprise, the camera angle changed from the traditional long shot she’d seen before to a tightly focused frame on Lee, his face grim. She scooted forward on the couch, elbows propped on her knees, hands clasped together. The camera angle shifted again, this time to a close up of Lee’s hand… _fumbling_ …losing its grip on Anastasia’s. The petite woman went crashing down to the rink as Kara gasped.    
  
She couldn’t believe it. Kara flashed back to the first day she got here, recalling Lee acting like a superior asshole, and, that conversation with Bill about needing a go-to girl. It was all crap. Lee was the one who’d screwed up. Suddenly she remembered Nationals, all those digs from Gaius, the slightly chilled and regretful bypass between Lee and Dualla, D’Anna Beers’ insistent questions about Lee’s failures….   
  
God, how could he not have told her? He’d never once even tried to tell her the truth. So much for being partners. After all this time, he still didn’t trust her. The knowledge settled like a lump in Kara’s chest but anger bloomed swiftly behind it.   
  
Quickly, she slipped on a pair of sneakers, not even bothering to change out of the old sweats she wore to bed. It was late, but she didn’t care. Lee Adama was getting a piece of her mind… and maybe a piece of her right hook too.   
  
She strode out of the carriage house and crossed the lawn to the back door of the mansion. Luckily it was still unlocked, and she moved through the darkened kitchen and down the hallway to the grand foyer. Kara had one hand on the banister of the staircase and was just about to head up to Lee’s room when she heard voices.    
  
“What the hell were you thinking out there today?” Bill Adama’s harsh tones rang out in the quiet hallway.   
  
She followed the sound and saw the door to Bill’s study was ajar up ahead. Kara creeped closer, leaning against the wall to the side of the doorway.    
  
“Look, Dad, I’m trying, okay? It’s a difficult lift, and--”   
  
“I’m talking about you and Kara.” Bill clarified, then paused, clearing his throat. “I understand that the two of you have become... _close_ ,” His words were clipped, stiffly and awkwardly uttered, and Kara’s own face flushed with embarrassment. “But son, you can’t let that cloud your focus. Our personal feelings can’t interfere with what we’re trying to accomplish here. We’ve worked too hard for too long to get this far and throw it all away again!” His voice rose with passion, his argument becoming more urgent.    
  
Silence answered him. Kara pressed an eye to the crack beneath the door hinges. Lee was staring down at the glass case that was designed to hold a medal. His medal. Their medal.    
  
“Look at this thing.” Disgust dripped from his words. “Just sitting there empty.”    
  
“Well, it won’t be staying that way for long,” the low rumble of Bill’s voice held a note of stubborn pride. “We’re almost there, son.”   
  
“Didn’t you say that the last time?” Lee’s voice was cold. “And the time before that.”    
  
“Well, this time, it’s going to happen.” Bill’s confident tone brooked no argument. “This is it, Lee, what you’ve dreamed about. This is what you’ve always wanted.”    
  
“Is it, Dad? Or is it what  _Zak_  always wanted?” The plaintive question had Kara’s hand involuntarily raising, as if she could reach out and touch his shoulder.    
  
“What!?” She didn’t need to see Bill to picture the stony set of his face. “Don’t—”   
  
“Don’t what? Don’t talk about Zak? Don’t say his name?” Lee’s voice rose, twisting bitterly. “Don’t tell the truth?”    
  
“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” Bill said, his tone stiff and unyielding.    
  
“What are we doing here, Dad? I mean, why…” he trailed off, sounding confused and incredulous. “All these years... why am I doing this?”   
  
There was a long pause, then Bill said quietly, “You should get some sleep, son. You’re just tired.”    
  
“No. No, I’m not! Stop trying to tell me what I feel!” Lee’s voice rang out louder now. “You don’t have the slightest goddamn idea how I feel! About skating, about Kara, about any of it!” Kara swallowed hard. “You couldn’t possibly know because you have never once bothered to ask me what I want!”   
  
_“Lee!”_  The name was a whipcrack of frustration and anger, ringing in the deep timbre of Bill’s voice.    
  
“God, forget it. You know what, Dad? You’re right once again. I am tired.” The sarcasm rang out loud and clear in his voice as he moved toward the door and worry panged in Kara’s chest even as she backed away, retreating into a shadowy alcove behind the stairwell. “These little pep talks can be so exhausting,” she heard Lee say, coldly, followed by the rapid thump of his footfalls on the stairs. Seconds later, the heavy study door slammed shut with a crash.   
  
Kara stood frozen, wondering what to do. Part of her wanted to race up the stairs after him, make sure Lee was alright. But another part of her was still smarting that he hadn’t told her the truth about Calgary. Still, more grief and pressure wasn’t what he needed right now. Kara had half a mind to march into the study herself and confront Bill, but what could she say to him? Give your son a break? Stop trying to make Lee into his dead brother? Yeah, that’d go over like a lead balloon. In the end, at a loss, Kara decided maybe they all needed a little space. Quietly, she headed back to the carriage house, more certain than ever that sleep would be eluding her completely that night.    
  
***   
  
The next four days passed in a whirl of pomp and circumstance, press conferences and practices. One minute they were processing into the huge stadium with the rest of the American athletes and the next they were here, warming up behind the curtain that led to the arena, listening as the Russian team’s short program music blasted through the sound system, and waiting for their names to be called.   
  
Nerves twisted Kara’s gut, and she took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Her gaze kept skipping to Lee, who was staring at the floor, his face blank of emotion. He’d been quiet, withdrawn all week. Kara had thought that not having to compete until late in the Games would be a benefit, but the extra time hadn’t helped at all. Try as they might, they still couldn’t seem to get their timing right -- on or off the ice.   
  
The Twist still eluded them. At their final private practice this morning, Coach had called them together and asked if they wanted to take the move out of the program. Kara knew their routines were solid and they could probably medal without it, snag a bronze, or maybe even a silver to match her previous one for hockey. But she wanted--no, she  _needed_ \--the gold, so Kara had insisted they keep trying. She’d been ready for a fight, since Lee had been suggesting they take it out for over a week. To her surprise, however, he’d just shrugged when Laura asked, and said, “Whatever Kara wants.”    
  
Ironically, that had annoyed her more than if he’d argued. If he’d argued, she could have yelled right back, challenging him. Hell, that’s how they worked. But this…this quiet, self-defeat…she didn’t know what to do with. It was like he had checked out already, given up before they’d even gotten on the ice.    
  
It was scaring her. And that was pissing her off.    
  
The officials came by and called for them to standby to take the ice and they stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting with Laura as the rink girls cleared the bouquets and stuffed animals tossed by adoring fans. Kara’s glance skipped over to Lee again, taking in his blank face, then sliding down to where his shirt was biting into his neck, the collar taut.    
  
“Christ, Lee, you look like you’re about to choke. You should loosen the top button.”   
  
“It’s fine.”   
  
“It doesn’t look fine, it looks like you might pass out halfway through a sit spin.”   
  
“Leave it, Kara,” he said, tightly. “I said, it’s fine.”    
  
She stared at him in surprise, her temper piquing a bit more. So this he would fight her on, but when it came to the important things, like their routine, he didn’t give a shit? “Oh, so now you wanna take a stand Lee?”   
  
“What?” He grimaced, the cool facade finally breaking. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”   
  
“Undo the damn button.” She practically growled the words, the anger and frustration she’d tried so hard to keep a lid on all week finally clamoring to the surface.   
  
Laura stepped between them, laying an arm on each of their shoulders, as she interjected. “Enough squabbling! Let’s focus on the program, yes?” The speakers crackled as the announcers introduced them, and Kara and Lee glared at each other.    
  
“We’re on,” he said, and stalked off first to take the ice. Laura squeezed her shoulder, “Good luck.” As Kara skated away after Lee, she thought she heard the coach mutter “We’re gonna need it.”    
  
They squared off at center ice, palms pressed against each other, as they waited for their music to start. Kara’s heart raced, her blood pumping, as she stared into his stoic, cold face. Her gaze slid down to his tightly closed-off collar once more, and she narrowed her eyes. Somehow that small clear plastic disc had come to symbolize all the fear and frustration that had slowly been catalyzing inside her. Kara hissed, “For the last goddamn time, undo the button.”    
  
Lee’s face tightened. “God, I am  _so damn_  sick and tired of everyone thinking they know what’s best for me. If it were 140 degrees out and that button meant the difference between a long satisfying life and a short, brutal death of heat stroke, I still wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.” His lips curled into a sneer over gritted teeth, as the rhythm of pounding drums started to fill the arena. “ _Skate_ .”   
  
They pushed off each other, anger and adrenaline fueling Kara as she circled the ice and completed the fancy footwork pass at the start of the routine. Somehow she finished a few seconds before Lee and she cursed inwardly, knowing the judges would mark them down for the poor timing. She was flustered by it and dwelling, and it didn’t occur to her until they were already starting the approach into the quads that they hadn’t done their customary hand-brush during the lead-up. It struck Kara suddenly as a bad omen, but she was already swinging her leg back and picking hard to launch. She rose into the air and twisted— _one, two, three…crap, she was slowing, she wouldn’t make four_ —and Kara was forced to triple the move instead.    
  
Even though they didn’t need the quad—a triple would easily fulfill the technical requirements of the short program—Kara was disappointed. Dread filled her. They were out of sync, messing up, and she wondered how they’d get through the next minute and a half.    
  
They circled the ice separately, a few feet apart, and then Kara reached her hand out behind her, waiting for Lee to grasp it. A second passed and he didn’t, and all of sudden Kara was acutely aware that for the first time, she couldn’t sense Lee’s presence on the ice with her. Horror flooded her. She couldn’t feel him. Their connection was just… gone.    
  
She knew where he should be, of course, but that just happened to be in her blind spot, a hair beyond her limited peripheral vision, so Kara whipped her head around just as Lee finally brushed her fingers, their grasp fumbling and locking together. She could clearly see the panic on his face now, and Kara flashed back to the footage from Calgary, the close up of his hand losing its grip on Anastasia Dualla’s, and she squeezed his fingers tightly, afraid to lose hold again.    
  
They completed the rest of the routine without errors, the reverse lift and throw at least raising cheers from the crowd. But Kara knew they’d been off, out of sync both physically and emotionally, and it had no doubt shown. They were silent as they bowed to the crowds and skated off the ice. Nearly the moment they passed the boards, a tall blonde reporter came towards them, microphone outstretched. Kara couldn’t remember her name—Shelley something, perhaps—but she reminded her of that German skater Lee had thought was such a hot number, Ms. Sechs. Her irritation kicked just that much higher as the blonde ignored her and turned a big toothy smile to Lee.    
  
“Was the altitude a problem tonight, Lee?” She asked, sympathy dripping from a honeyed voice.   
  
“No,” he answered tersely, as his eyes lifted towards the scoreboard.   
  
Her long eyelashes blinked, clearly ruffled by his terseness, but she quickly forced her smile back into place.“So, your long program. We’ve been hearing all week about the new surprise move you’ve been working on.” She flashed more teeth. “Can you tell us what it’s called?”   
  
Kara leaned over, butting in. “The Roslin Twist.”   
  
The reporter looked startled, but recovered admirably, moving the microphone closer to Kara. “I see, and that’s clearly named after your coach, Laur—“   
  
“We’re not doing it,” Lee cut in.    
  
Kara’s head swiveled around so fast, she nearly gave herself whiplash. “What?!”    
  
He grimaced, his lips a tight line, and his eyes flicked to Kara’s briefly as he spoke. “We’re taking it out of the program. It’s not ready.”   
  
Then he turned and walked behind the curtain and Kara was left staring after him, the outstretched microphone before her waiting for a response she couldn’t give.   
  
***    
  
“A button?!” Bill exploded. “You mean to tell me this was all because of a button?”   
  
The four of them filed into the dining room back at the mansion Bill had rented. The room was cozy and warm, a fire roaring in the fireplace, the table set elegantly for a late supper. The effect of it was lost on its occupants however, as tension and strife simmered between the quartet.   
  
Laura stared at them, her tone sharp with annoyance. “I told you both to let it go! How could you let that interfere with what you’ve worked for?”   
  
Lee glared at Kara, muttering from the end of the table. “She kept pushing, like she always does...”   
  
“Oh, please, give me a fucking break,” Kara shouted, turning towards him. “You’re saying it’s my fault?”    
  
He crossed his arms and leveled a stare at her. “You’re the one who brought up the stupid button in the first--”   
  
“MY GOD.” She exploded. “The button does NOT matter! Forget the goddamn button!” Kara took a deep breath, gritting her teeth. “Let’s talk about why we spent five weeks on a move you were never gonna do!”    
  
Lee’s jaw tightened, his brow creasing, “We’ve done it a million times in practice and we haven’t once landed it clean, Kara!”   
  
“So you just yank it out of our program? Without even talking to me first?”   
  
“Forget the move,” Bill rumbled. “We can win without the move.”   
  
“No,” Laura’s quiet insistence cut through the tense silence. “Actually, we can’t.”   
  
Bill rounded on her, face furious. ‘And just where the hell were you when all this was going on?”   
  
“Where was I?” The coach’s face tightened and she snapped. “I was babysitting!”   
  
“Well, this was your idea, wasn’t it? It was risky, foolish. I never should’ve let you--”   
  
“Let me?!” Laura protested, at the same time that Kara snapped, “Don’t blame Coach! It’s not her fault!”    
  
“Well, someone needs to step up and take responsibility here,” Bill glowered, voice harsh. “We went out there today and we didn’t get it done. And all because of a ridiculous fight about a button!”   
  
Kara stared at him, eyes wide with incredulity, then she sneered. “You want to point a finger? Maybe you should start with the ice prince over here!” She jerked a thumb towards Lee, then hissed, “My God, you people are all excuses!”    
  
“What is that supposed to mean?!” Bill thundered, his face turning a mottled red.    
  
“Today it was about a button,” Kara paused, bitterness and anger swelling in her chest as she swiveled her head. “Was it a button in Calgary, Lee?” she bit off, her tone low.    
  
She thought she saw panic flicker in his eyes as he asked slowly, warily, “What are you talking about?”   
  
“I saw the damn footage!” Lee stiffened, color draining from his face as he stared at her, and Kara swallowed hard, feeling sick, but needing to say this. “It wasn’t Dualla’s fault. And it sure as hell wasn’t a wardrobe problem.  _You_  screwed up the lift.  _You_  let go.  _You_ let her fall!”   
  
Lee just stared, his chest heaving as he took a long, shuddering breath. The silence in the room was absolute.    
  
“And you never said a word about that either. Not once.” Kara shook her head. “We’re supposed to be  _partners_ , Lee!” her voice wavered. “But you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.” The words tumbled bitterly out of her mouth and left a hollow space behind, like her chest had cracked open. Lee’s head bowed and he said nothing.    
  
She blinked and had to look away, her gaze drifting to Laura and Bill on the other side of the table. “None of you did.” She glared at Bill. “ _Gotta find that go-to-girl_ , huh?” Her temper flared as she remembered his words, remembered the derision Lee had heaped on her at the start. “Guess you shoulda started with a go-to-guy!”    
  
Bill frowned. “That’s quite enough.”   
  
But Kara wasn’t done. She turned toward Lee, the anger making her heart pound, her blood race. “You won’t do the move because you are completely fucking terrified to take a chance on anything or anyone.” He didn’t lift his eyes from the table, and panic rushed through her, but Kara couldn’t stop. “You’re too damn scared to put your heart into it. You’re a  _coward_ , Lee Adama!”   
  
Laura frowned, but Bill turned nearly apoplectic, his face turning purple as he shouted. “Alright! That does it! You are--”   
  
“Right,” Lee interjected quietly, and all of their heads turned his way. “She’s right. She is. All of it.” He nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the floral centerpiece on the table, as though he were a million miles away. “We worked so hard for two years, and...” he sounded like he was in a stupor, bemused almost by the words coming out of his mouth. “I just went and threw it all away.”   
  
Kara stared at him, speechless finally. Across from her, Laura said softly but urgently,  _“Lee_ .” But he lifted his head and looked at Kara instead.    
  
“Why’d you stay with me?”   
  
Her gut twisted, but Bill’s deep rumble cut in. “Lee, don’t--”   
  
“Don’t what? Tell the truth, Dad?” he cried. “We can’t buy back what happened today. We can’t start over.” His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “I have busted my ass working for the same goddamn goal since I was six years old, and I can’t even remember why anymore.”   
  
“Lee,” Bill said, quiet and sharp, a look of defeat washing over his own face. “What do you want?”   
  
“Well now, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Lee huffed a mirthless laugh. “I don’t know, Dad,” he shook his head, his face rippling with pain. His voice was husky with emotion, as he said, slowly, “I guess I’d like to go back to the beginning and hear you say that, win or lose, I could just be your son.”   
  
The Old Man frowned, confusion overtaking his stern countenance, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but Laura reached over and laid a hand on his arm. He looked at her and she shook her head, almost as if she were admonishing a child, and Bill remained silent.   
  
Lee’s brow creased and he turned then, took one step towards Kara, but stopped. “You came every day and you skated,” he said quietly, staring directly into her eyes. “I gave you a million reasons to walk out the door, and you never did.” He paused, frowning. “I- I didn’t know it was gonna end up like this. I’m sorry, Kara.” Lee turned slightly, his eyes skipping to Laura. “I’m sorry...for everything.”   
  
Then, before Kara could move, before she could breathe even, he turned and left the room. Kara was rooted to the spot, unable to process what had just happened. Across from her, Laura and Bill were also frozen, her hand still clutching his forearm. Then, Laura shook her head suddenly, like someone shaking off a bad dream, and snatched her hand back from Bill’s arm, her face twisting unpleasantly. “Excuse me,” she murmured. “I need some air.” And then she walked briskly towards the door to the hall, slipping through and disappearing just as Lee had.    
  
The Old Man’s dulled eyes followed her out the door. His lined face was weary; he looked just as awful as Kara felt. She sagged down into the heavy chair before her, elbows propped on the table, dropping her head into her hands. Her anger had subsided entirely with Lee’s apology and subsequent exit; now Kara was exhausted, numb, wrung dry by the drama. She wondered what would happen now. Would they even skate tomorrow?   
  
She let her eyes flutter shut, and rubbed her forehead.   
  
“I never wanted Lee to skate.”   
  
Bill’s voice was quiet, rueful, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He sat at the head of the table, staring down at the fine linens and cutlery. “What?”   
  
“Carolanne came to me one day. The boys were young, Lee couldn’t have been more than five or six. But she said he was good, a natural talent, and that he wanted it.” The Old Man chuckled softly. “I hated the idea. Zak, our older son, was just like Carolanne. He didn’t look like her, that was Lee, but he took after her every other way--great laugh, big heart,” he nodded, smiling faintly. “And he was already training, winning medals for his speed skating.”   
  
Kara stared in rapt fascination as the Old Man spun the story. “Lee, on the other hand... he had my wife’s eyes, but that’s it. Lee was quiet, more serious. Whenever I could slip away from the business, which unfortunately wasn’t very often even then, I’d take Lee with me, to this cabin we had, down by this lake. We’d go fishing, spend the whole day together, and we’d just talk. I’d tell him stories about the family, books I’d read. He’d hang on every word, and ask questions too. So many questions.” Bill sighed heavily. “Lee was _mine_ . And I knew that would change if I said yes to letting him skate.”   
  
“But you did, anyway.” Kara said, softly, afraid to break his reverie for fear he’d stop talking.   
  
“I did. He wanted it and I couldn’t say no to him. I never really could,” he said. “But I was right. He started training and things changed. No more fishing trips. And then...” Bill’s mouth tightened. “Then Zak died and Carolanne left us.”   
  
Kara waited, watching as the Old Man took heavy breaths. “I didn’t handle it well,” he said finally. “The house was so empty with just the two of us, and every time I looked at Lee, looked into those blue eyes, I saw his mother.” He cleared his throat. “So I started traveling more, threw myself into the business, expanding it. And I built the rink, got Lee his own private coach, made sure he had the best of everything.” His voice turned sharp, bitter. “I no longer knew how to talk to my son, but I could give him what he wanted most, I could make sure he got that gold medal.”   
  
“That’s not what he wanted most,” Kara corrected. “He wanted his father.”   
  
Bill frowned his face crumpling. “I was afraid. I’d left it too late.” He swallowed. “ _I_  was a coward.”   
  
Kara’s heart panged for him, and for the boy Lee once had been. “Why are you telling me all this?”   
  
“Because Lee was right. You were right.” He reached out a hand and laid it atop Kara’s, squeezing gently. “I think it’s time we all stop making excuses.”   
  
“You need to talk to your son. Tell Lee what you told me. And tell him...” Kara paused, aware of her presumption, but knowing she was right about this, “tell him that you’re proud of him and you love him.” Thoughts of her own mother flickered briefly in Kara’s mind but she pushed it aside. “That’s what he wants, boss. He needs to hear it.”    
  
Bill smiled at her, slowly, and patted her hand. She smiled back at him and his hand tightened around hers again, as he nodded, then said “Wise advice. Perhaps you should take it yourself.”   
  
She stared at him, confused.    
  
“You’re in love with my son, Kara.”   
  
It wasn’t a question. Kara’s eyes widened and her heart raced.    
  
“You should tell him.”   
  
“I-” she floundered for a second, but couldn’t lie to the Old Man. “How did you...”   
  
“I may be an old fool, Kara, but I’m not a blind one.” He reached up and took off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt, as he smiled again. “Not yet anyway.”    
  
Kara flushed, feeling embarrassed and put on the spot. “But I heard you tell Lee...before we left for the Games...you said he had to focus, not let personal feelings interfere...”   
  
Bill frowned. “I think I was wrong about that too. After Zak and Carolanne...I couldn’t let myself feel that way again, so I just focused on the work, and look what happened? My only son hates me,” he paused, emotion finally choking his voice. “He’s all I have.”    
  
It was Kara’s turn to reach out, her hand squeezing Bill’s. “No, he doesn’t. And  _no_ , he’s not.” She smiled softly at the Old Man. “And, boss? While you’re doing all that talking? I think you really might want to talk to Coach too.”   
  
His eyes widened and Kara grinned.    
  
“Laura,” he paused. “She doesn’t... She’s never...”    
  
“Just...talk to her.”   
  
Bill looked at her for a long moment, confusion and wonder on his face as a slow smile formed. And then he pushed his chair back and rose, circling round the table. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I suddenly seem to have quite a lot of pressing business to attend to.” His eyes twinkled slightly as he stopped next to Kara’s chair and reached out, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear then squeezing her shoulder. “And  _you_  should think about what I said, Kara. I think it’s high time we all start taking some chances around here.” The Old Man actually winked at her then. “If you want to win, sometimes you just have to roll the hard six.”    
  
He swept out of the room on that pronouncement, his step nearly able to be classified as “bouncy” and Kara couldn’t help but laugh. Then she dropped her head into her hands again. Her mind was racing. Should she really try to talk to Lee now about how she felt? It seemed crazy, with everything else going on. No, he needed to talk to his father. That was more important. Whatever was going on between them--or, more accurately, wasn’t going on between them--could wait. For the night at least.    
  
Once Bill talked to Lee, maybe all that weight he’d been carrying around would be lifted. Maybe skating would stop feeling like an obligation. Lee would get his confidence back and he’d remember what it felt like again to just want to keep skating, and never stop.   
  
Yes, Kara assured herself, that would fix everything. Things would be better in the morning.   
  
They just had to be.


	12. Chapter 12

Kara woke up smiling, the roar of the crowds rushing in her ears. The images were still vivid behind her eyelids: her and Lee, standing on the podium, gold medals heavy around their necks as the flag unfurled and the anthem boomed amid cheers throughout the arena.    
  
It had been a nice dream, but reality beckoned. Her eyes opened, vision sharpening as her consciousness swam to the surface and she looked towards the bedside clock. Kara’s eyes widened at the bright red digits that told her it was nearly noon. They weren’t skating until this evening but she needed to find Lee and talk to him. Kara bolted out of bed and hurried to get dressed, feeling an uncanny sense of déjà vu.    
  
Twenty minutes later she was walking down the grand staircase. Bill had spared no expense on their accommodations, of course, and Kara wondered how long it would take before she’d be used to the careless extravagance that the Adamas took for granted. She frowned, as it occurred to her that after tonight...she may not have the chance.   
  
As Kara rounded the final steps to the grand foyer, Lee’s dark head bobbed into view. A smile automatically spread across her face. “Hey.”   
  
Lee turned his head, and smiled, and Kara felt a rush of relief. “Hey.”    
  
“I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk--” She stopped speaking abruptly as her eyes fell on the piled luggage neatly stacked behind Lee in the hall. “What’s all this?”   
  
Lee’s smile faded, and he actually looked nervous suddenly. “I, uh, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, Kara. Trying to figure some things out. But last night, after everything that happened, I think, I finally--”   
  
“Just spit it out, Lee!” she cried, her gut churning as dread and fear sapped her patience. “What are you trying to say?”   
  
“I’m retiring, Kara.”   
  
She rocked back a step at the quietly uttered words, their impact as potent as a punch to the face. “What?”   
  
His face was rueful. “Tonight’s my final skate.”   
  
Kara sucked in a hard breath, her chest tight. How could he be saying this? “Lee, I was angry last night and I know I said some awful things, but--”   
  
“It’s not you, Kara,” he insisted. “I just...I’m so tired of trying to be the best and failing. Of not living up to everyone’s expectations.”   
  
“But...” she swallowed, confusion and fear making her head spin, “did you talk to your Dad?”   
  
“Yeah, I did actually. Last night.” He shook his head. “He did a total 180. Said he’d support me whatever I decided to do.”   
  
Kara’s mouth opened, then closed. She had wanted Bill to support his son, but... not if it meant  _this_ . Lee wasn’t supposed to want to quit. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. “I can’t believe this,” she breathed.    
  
Lee, stepped closer, laying his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, Kara, you’ll be fine. You won’t have any trouble finding a new partner.”   
  
_But I don’t want a new partner_ , her brain screamed. She couldn’t get the words out around the lump in her throat though.    
  
He lifted one of his hands to her cheek. “You’re an amazing skater, Kara Thrace.” Lee swallowed so hard she could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “And you deserve a partner who’s not going to hold you back.”   
  
Tears pricked at her eyelids and Kara winced them away.  _“Lee,_ ” she said, hating the beseeching tone in her voice, but unable to hide the emotion. For once, Kara had no idea what to say, how she could convince him to stay with her.   
  
His thumb stroked her cheek and Kara tilted her face into his palm. Lee’s gaze skipped away, darting over her shoulder then back to her face and he visibly brightened. “Hey, close your eyes, alright? I have a surprise for you.”   
  
_Oh great, as if the morning hadn’t been surprising enough already._  But Kara let her lids flutter shut, the next thing she knew something soft and warm was pressing against her legs. Before she could even open her eyes, a familiar sound interrupted her revelry.   
  
“AUNTIE!” Kara’s eyes flew open and there they were suddenly, Hera was clutching her knees and behind her Sharon and Karl stood, shoulder to shoulder, wearing identical grins. Kara gasped and reached down to swing Hera up into her arms. “My God, you guys, how did you--”    
  
The words caught in her throat though, when Sharon and Karl exchanged a conspiratorial look then stepped apart, only to reveal Claire and Joe Agathon. A sob rose in Kara’s throat, and she staggered forward, the tears she’d been holding back spilling out now and coursing down her cheeks. She was scooped up in Joe’s strong embrace, and a flurry of hugs and kisses followed. Hera poked at her cheek suddenly, her chubby finger rubbing at wet skin. “Auntie sad?”    
  
_Yes._  “No,” Kara said. “I’m just happy to see you, baby girl. All of you.” She looked around at her family, heart swelling as the questions tumbling out. “But how did you guys get here? How could you afford this?”   
  
“Your young man, Lee, called us a few days ago and said he was sending us plane tickets and wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Claire answered, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Said it wasn’t every day our daughter went to the Olympics and he wasn’t going to let us miss it.”   
  
If she wasn’t already completely in love with Lee Adama, that would have clinched it, Kara thought. Her head was already turning, seeking him out to thank him, when Kara realized he was gone. He’d slipped out in all the commotion. Another wave of sadness rippled through her. ”He’s not mine,” she whispered, mostly to herself.    
  
  
Sharon stepped closer reaching for Hera and swinging the girl up out of Kara’s arms. She leveled a knowing look at her sister-in-law. “Well, I think it’s about time you did something about that, don’t you?”   
  
Kara’s gaze widened, then flickered over to Claire and where Joe and Karl were talking quietly. “But you guys just got here,” she said, torn. “I can’t just--”    
  
“Yes, you can.” Sharon insisted. “You can catch up with us later, after the two of you get your shit together and win this thing tonight,” she grinned. “As your fan club manager, I insist. Go get him, Kara, and knock some sense into that oblivious boy’s head.”   
  
She hesitated, looking to Claire, who just nodded and squeezed her shoulders before letting Kara go. She over and kissed Sharon’s cheek, pulling her into a quick hug. “You’re the best, you know that right?”   
  
“Damn straight I am.” Sharon grinned and swatted Kara’s ass. “Now, get.”   
  
Kara didn’t need to be told again.   
  
***   
  
She found him in the first place she looked.    
  
Lee was at the arena. He stood at the boards, grimly staring out at the ice where Zambonis circled, preparing the rink for the afternoon’s competition.    
  
She watched him in silence for a few moments. His brow was creased, his jaw tight with tension, his mouth drawn down. Looking at him, Kara’s resolve strengthened. He didn’t look like a man who was happy to be retiring. He was making the wrong decision, she knew it. She just had to convince him somehow.    
  
She stepped forward, drawing up next to him and Lee’s head turned, eyebrows rising with surprise. “Kara, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be with your family.”    
  
“I know. I...” she paused, her determination now that she was actually in front of him faltering slightly. “Thank you for doing that. Really,” Kara shook her head, at a loss. “You keep sneak attacking me with these huge magnanimous gestures and I can’t begin to say thank you.” A laugh snuck out, the short harsh sound laced with bitterness. “I’d offer to pay you back in medals, but I guess I won’t get the chance now.”   
  
He twisted towards her. “Kara--”   
  
“I can’t believe this is it, Lee. You’re just gonna quit after everything you’ve worked for, everything we’ve worked for.” Her eyes searched his face. “I mean, I thought we were on the same page here, that we wanted the same things.”   
  
His face fell, a pained expression crossing it. “We did. We do. We’re gonna skate tonight. And maybe we’ll win. I hope we do.” Lee shook his head. “But...I’m tired, Kara. I’m tired of fighting,” he said, voice heavy with weariness and a note of finality. “I’m done.”    
  
Kara just stared at him. He meant it. She could tell. She was well acquainted with the many ways that Lee Adama could be a stubborn son-of-a-bitch.    
  
And what could she do about it? Nothing. A big fat nothing. Sure, she could stand here, and push and prod and make them both miserable and ruin the last few hours they had together.    
  
Or she could accept it. Try to memorize every last moment of this day, so that six months from now, when Kara was back in Boston, working some shitty construction job, she’d be able to look back and remember how good it was sometimes. How good it could be between them when they left all the other baggage and bullshit at the door.    
  
Decision made, Kara held out her hand, palm up. “I want you to come with me.”   
  
Lee looked down at it, his brow crinkling in confusion. “Come with you, where?   
  
“No questions. Just come with me,” she said. “ _Trust me._ ”    
  
He slid his hand into hers and Kara tightened her fingers around his, then turned, grabbing their duffels with her free hand and pulling him towards the exit.    
  
Their final destination wasn’t far. Outside the doors of the arena, there was a public temporary ice rink set up, where former Olympic medalists who’d now turned pro had been performing exhibition skates all week. It was a cold, clear day, and this was the closest thing Albertville, France offered to a bumpy frozen lake in the outskirts of greater Boston.    
  
Lee’s feet faltered as Kara pushed open the barrier gate to step onto the ice. “You want to practice out here? Why? We don’t have our music and this ice isn’t the best quality--”   
  
“I don’t want to practice, Lee,” Kara interrupted, turning to face him. Her gaze locked on his and Kara sucked in a breath, her teeth catching her lower lip, before the words came rushing out. “I just want to skate with you.”   
  
Realization dawned on his face and Lee squeezed her hand and nodded. They walked over to a bench and put their bags down, then pulled on their skates in silence. She waited as he finished tying the laces, then held out her hand again, and he took it. They walked out onto the ice and she pushed off, leading as they made a slow circle around the ice.    
  
They had the rink all to themselves. A few people milled around the parade grounds, but it was mostly quiet save for the sounds of birds chirping in the distance, and the low rumble of traffic from a faraway road. Kara concentrated on blocking everything out, forgetting all the stress and aggravation and pain, to just be in the moment. She focused on the quiet swish of their blades through the ice, on the rhythm of her movements as she stroked in time with Lee, on the way his fingers felt, warm and threaded through hers, on the air rushing by as they gained speed and power. Energy burned through Kara as they accelerated, the familiar anticipation as she strove to push harder, go faster. She wanted to soar.   
  
Kara squeezed Lee’s fingers once then pulled away, stroking forward to jump into a double axel. She landed clean and a beat later, Lee launched, following her lead with a double of his own. Kara circled again and picked off for a triple toe loop, and as soon as she touched down, Lee jumped into a quad loop. They mirrored one another’s movements, matching jump for jump, salchows and lutzes and flips, without a word exchanged between them. They spiraled around each other in circles, then Lee skated closer and caught her, pulling Kara into position in front of him, his hands sliding low on her hips so he could throw her. She arced through the air, touching down for barely a second before she was turning and skating back to him. Lee braced her with his hands, swinging her into a lift, her arms outstretched as she rose high into the air, then swooped down on the dismount.    
  
Exhilaration flooded Kara’s body, leaving her breathless, her heart pounding. Giddy with the adrenaline rush, she kicked up and over into a backflip on a whim, the playful move so familiar she could do it in her sleep, but when Lee tried to duplicate it, he overbalanced on the landing, his body pitched too far back and his blades skidded right out from under him, crashing him down onto his ass on the ice. His awkward sprawl was so comical Kara couldn’t help but laugh as she skated over to reach a hand down to him and haul Lee to his feet. When he was upright though she didn’t let go of his hand, just tugged him closer and said, grinning, “You know, there’s this little claw-like thingy at the top of your blade to prevent that sort of thing. Maybe you’ve heard of it? It’s called a....tooooooooeeeeepick.”    
  
“Oh shut up,” he grinned back, slugging her bicep lightly with his free hand. He was sweating and flushed and grinning, sunlight making a halo behind his dark hair.    
  
“Aw, it’s okay, Lee, just, you know, don’t--”  _quit your day job_ . The words died on her tongue and Kara froze, as everything she’d been trying to block out for the past hour suddenly overwhelmed her. This was the last time they’d skate together, not counting tonight anyway. And that would be different. There’d be a million people watching and all the pressure and stress of competition. This was the last moment they would have together to just...be.    
  
“Kara?” Lee frowned, tilting his head. “What is it?”   
  
She couldn’t answer, just tugged on his hand, pulling him towards her and wrapping her other arm around his back. Lee let her hand go and slid both arms around her, pulling Kara tightly to him.She snaked her other arm around his waist and took a deep breath, resting her face against his shoulder. Lee tilted his head down too, his cheek warm against hers and she closed her eyes, took another deep breath. The wool of his coat and the spice of his aftershave filled her nose, and beneath it just the smell of Lee, unique and familiar, and Kara squeezed him tighter for one final minute. She sighed, knowing she needed to let go now or she might never be able to, and lifted her head, moving to shift back.   
  
But Lee’s arms tightened around her and he ran a hand up her back into her hair, cupping the nape of her neck and holding her in place. He turned his head, lips to her ear. “I’m gonna miss this,” he whispered.    
  
Kara’s heart jumped in her chest. “Skating?” she murmured.    
  
“ _You_ .” Lee answered and shifted, his face pressed to her neck. Shivers rippled under her skin where they connected, their chests rising and falling in rhythm. It could have been a moment, it could have been eternity. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there on the ice clinging, tangled together. Everything fell away, the world around them fading to the far reaches of her consciousness.    
  
Reality returned in the form of voices, calling their names. They slid apart, heads turning to the rink’s periphery. A crowd had gathered now and a flush rose through Kara at the realization that they’d had an audience, and she looked over to see Lee looking slightly pinker than usual as well.    
  
They skated off the ice and changed back into street shoes, and as they grabbed their bag to head back to the rink, Kara tapped a young Frenchman passing by on the shoulder. “Hey, wait a sec. Can you take our picture?” Quickly she dug out her cell phone and turned on the camera app. “ _Parlez-vous...camera_ ?” She waved it at him, and he nodded, “ _Oui, oui._ ”   
  
She huddled close to Lee, and he wrapped his arm around her, as they smiled for the camera. Kara collected her phone again, bidding the man “ _merci_ ,” and stared at the screen.    
  
“Kara, you do realize we’re going to have to pose for a ton of those later right?” Lee squinted over her shoulder at the phone’s screen. “God, look at me, I’m a mess.” He raked a hand through his windswept hair to try to tame it. “What’d you want to take a picture now for?”   
  
He was right, of course. Later they’d have to stand for dozens of press photos. They’d be in uniforms, wearing plastic smiles, standing the appropriate distance apart against some sort of grey-toned backdrop.    
  
“Because,” Kara explained, patiently, the euphoria of their skate nearly faded as she remembered what was to come. “This guy? This breathless, red-faced,  _messy_  guy?” She smiled sadly. “ _This_  is the Lee Adama I want to remember.”    
  
Lee stared at her, but Kara just turned and walked off towards the rink, alone.   
  
She figured she should get used to it.   
  
***   
  
It was roughly thirty minutes till they had to take the ice, as the final skaters in the last group of pairs, and Kara was worried. For once, her anxiety wasn’t about performing, or Lee, but something else entirely.    
  
It had come to their attention that no one had seen either Laura Roslin or Bill Adama in the past 14 hours.    
  
“Try them again,” Kara insisted. And Lee reached for his phone, punching in the digits. “I’m calling Dad,” he paused, listening, “Nope, straight to voicemail.”   
  
Kara frowned, her stomach tying itself in knots. It wasn’t like the Coach to be late. The Old Man either. A few horrifying possibilities raced through her brain, all involving accidents and ambulances and bloodshed. Feeling grim, she looked at Lee, who was busy leaving a message for his father to call him as soon as he could. His expression was just as sober as hers and she knew he was worried. “Do you think we should call the local hospitals, just in c--”   
  
His words trailed off, smothered under the distinctive sound of Laura Roslin laughing. They turned as one, following the peals of giddy, almost girlish-sounding giggles to see Laura and Bill, sauntering down the ramp towards them, arm-in-arm.    
  
“Where the hell have you been?” Lee exploded, probably piqued to see them looking so carefree. “I must’ve called you a hundred times.”   
  
Laura grinned, beaming like the Cheshire Cat at Bill, who was beaming right back, and Kara’s eyebrows rose. She’d never seen Coach like this. Her eyes flicked down to where Laura’s arm was linked tightly through the Old Man’s, and her eyebrows crept higher. Had they....?   
  
She wasn’t kept in suspense for long. “I’m sorry, son, we didn’t mean to make you worry, but we had some very important business to take care of and it just couldn’t wait.” He grinned at Laura, winking and thier coach suddenly raised her left hand. “We got married!”    
  
Kara’s mouth dropped, as sure enough, there was a shiny diamond solitaire now on the third finger of Laura’s hand. It was a hell of a rock, too.   
  
“You...you what?” She looked over at Lee, next to her, who was gaping as well, looking as dumbfounded as she felt. “You got married!” His voice was faint like someone had suckerpunched him.   
  
Laura giggled again, and flicked her hair back, and Kara grinned, convinced her coach was aging in reverse, regressing to a teenager again before her eyes.    
  
“Yes,” Bill confirmed. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to tell you.” He looked towards Kara. “We would’ve liked to have had you both at the wedding to stand up for us,” his gaze crept back to Laura, as if he couldn’t bear to look away from her for too long. “But it all happened rather quickly.”   
  
Lee was still looking shell-shocked, like he might fall over if a strong burst of wind should come rattling through the arena suddenly. To be honest, the look on his face was comical and Kara found herself smirking. “You can say that again. When did you too...How did...What...?” He trailed off shaking his head and Kara chuckled.   
  
“After I left you last night, I visited Laura and we had a long talk. A good talk,” he smiled, reaching up to caress the side of his new bride’s face. “I told her I’d been a very stupid and stubborn man, that somehow it had taken me far too long to realize the very simple truth, that I can’t live without her and that I am head over heels in love with her.”    
  
“And I told him it was about time,” Coach said, her dry, ironic delivery doing nothing to hamper the stars in her eyes or the telltale blush on her cheeks as she looked at her new husband.    
  
The Old Man chuckled and leaned in to kiss her, his lips melding passionately with Laura’s. Lee’s eyebrows rose and after a beat, his gaze flicked away, as he shifted uncomfortably. Kara smirked and rolled her eyes at him, and a sheepish half-smile lifted the corner of his mouth.    
  
After a ridiculously uncomfortable and exceptionally long minute, Bill and Laura broke apart, and Kara stepped forward in the ensuing silence. “Well, allow me be the first to congratulate the happy couple.” She hugged the Old Man first, and by the time she was done admiring Laura’s ring and embracing the coach, Lee had finally picked his jaw up off the floor and was hugging his father and shaking his hand.    
  
“I’m really happy for you both,” Kara said, meaning it wholeheartedly, as Lee leaned in and kissed Laura’s cheek.    
  
“Thank you, Kara,” Laura said, her eyes twinkling, then narrowing in a look of steely determination that was a bit more familiar than the giddy countenance she’d been donning. “Now, what would make this evening even more perfect? The two of you going out there and winning that gold.”    
  
Lee looked towards Kara and smiled. “We’re going to do our best.”   
  
Kara smiled too, even as she bit her lip at the lie, knowing that trying their best would mean doing the Twist Lee had yanked from their program.   
  
Suddenly an ISU official stuck his head behind the curtain and said, “Thrace/Adama, you’re on in ten.”    
  
Bill wished them luck, hugging and kissing them both in turn, then clapping a heavy hand on Lee’s shoulder, saying gruffly, “Proud of you, son.” Kara and Laura exchanged a glance and a smile at the exchange as Bill excused himself to go and sit with Kara’s family in the stands.   
  
“I am so very proud of the both of you, too,” Laura said, looking at them with affection. “Regardless of what happens out there, win or lose today, I couldn’t ask for better students.” She reached an arm out to embrace them both, hugging them to her sides. “Now, I want you to go out there today, and skate for these people, the way I’ve seen you skate,” she said, pausing deliberately. “ _Enjoy each other.”_   
  
Over Laura’s head, their eyes caught and held.    
  
An ISU official stuck his head behind the curtain and said, “Five minutes.”   
  
The coach gave them one last squeeze, then followed the official out of the warm-up area and through the curtain to wait by the boards.   
  
The mood grew serious with her departure. Kara shook out her limbs, bending her arms, rolling her neck. Her eyes skipped to Lee, next to her, who was doing the same, his face a blank mask. Every hair was in place, his uniform shirt buttoned high and tight again. If she didn’t know they were the same man, she never would have mistaken this guy with the Lee Adama who’d been doing breathless backflips with her just a few short hours ago. It was like that Lee had just disappeared without a trace, like he’d just.... poofed.    
  
_She wanted him back._   
  
All at once, Kara was tired. Tired of waiting and holding back and not pushing. Tired of giving Lee space, just hoping pathetically that he’d get his head together and figure it out. God, she’d given him so much space he was running out the door. Who was this passive person who’d stood back for weeks, just hoping that Lee would suddenly figure out what he wanted? That wasn’t her.   
  
And this—what he was doing, running away—this wasn’t him.   
  
All along, Kara had been accusing him of holding back, of being too afraid to take a chance, to put his whole heart into it. But wasn’t that exactly what she was doing now?    
  
Maybe Lee was done.   
  
But she wasn’t.   
  
_No holding back._   
  
“You can’t quit on me!”    
  
Lee’s head snapped around from where he was twisting, stretching his back, at her hastily blurted words.    
  
“What?”   
  
She stepped closer, her frustration catalyzing to anger and Kara pushed her hands against his chest, shoving him. “You can’t just walk away, give it all up! You’re not a quitter, Lee.”    
  
“Kara—” he started, then stopped, shaking his head. He lifted a hand and rubbed it over his mouth, a note of defeat in his voice. “I don’t know who I am, anymore.”    
  
Kara felt a frisson of déjà vu, like she was back on the ice chasing a goal, the countdown clock ticking. It all came down to this. Time to take the shot.   
  
“Well, I do.”    
  
He looked away, shook his head again, and Kara reached up, grabbing his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. “I  _do_ , Lee.”   
  
He stared back, face revealing nothing. Kara took a deep breath, tilting closer to him. “You’re the guy who rode my ass about that damn triple axel for months but bought me Philly’s biggest piece of chocolate cake when I nailed it.” She took a breath. “You’re the guy who likes Kandinsky and Italian food and the Yankees, even though everyone knows the Red Sox are far superior.” His lips quirked in a little smile, but Kara wasn’t finished. “You’re the guy who let a washed-up, half-blind, rule-breaking hockey player come into your precious rink and mess up your perfect life.”   
  
She swallowed hard. “And  _you’re_  the guy who let me fall” Kara’s voice caught suddenly, and Lee’s brow creased, and she pushed out the rest, “in love with you.”   
  
There was silence after that, and Kara just stared, afraid to say anything else, afraid to even breathe. Lee stared back, his brow smoothing, mouth parting, eyes widening. He looked…thunderstruck, and Kara let go of him, insecurity swamping through her in the wake of his silence.    
  
The ISU official popped his head through the curtain again. “We’re ready for you now.”   
  
Kara didn’t move. Lee blinked, like he was waking up from a stupor. Then he turned towards the rink, “We have to go on,” he said, almost robotically.    
  
Kara stared at him in horror, then frustration built again, and she grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Lee, listen to me, okay? At first, I thought if I could just keep skating, keep moving, I’d break clear of it, you know?” Why was she talking in hockey metaphors? This was all coming out wrong, “I kept telling myself that we weren’t right for each other. We argued more than we agreed. We were too different. I could never be like Dee or Gianne or the kind of girl that would fit in your world, but—”    
  
The ISU official came buzzing over to them again. “M’am, Sir, we really need you—“   
  
Desperation fueling her, Kara turned and snapped, “Can you just give us a friggin’ minute, here?” The man’s face turned red, but he disappeared, and she turned back to Lee.   
  
Who was stock-still, just watching her with those wide, inscrutable eyes.   
  
“I was just fooling myself, because it was too late.” He said nothing. “And don’t tell me we’re not right for each other, because the way I see it, we’re not right for anyone else.” Silence. “I need you, Lee. I don’t want another partner. I need  _you_ .”   
  
Kara bit her lip, forcing herself to stop talking, and wait.   
  
Lee just stared.    
  
“God, would you just say something?!” she exploded.    
  
Something like realization finally flashed in Lee’s eyes, and quietly he said, “We’re doing the move.”   
  
His response was so far from what she was expecting that Kara couldn’t process it. “What?”    
  
“The Twist.” A slow grin was forming on his face, and Lee lifted a hand to his shirt, popping the top button open and Kara raised an eyebrow. But he was already walking forward again to the rink, calling over his shoulder, “We’re doing it.”   
  
She stared after him, baffled, as around them the stadium suddenly erupted in cheers. Lee had crossed into the performance area and they’d gotten their first glimpse at him. Roslin was bustling towards Kara quickly now, nodding and pointing to the ice.    
  
She snapped to attention and stalked forward, stopping at the boards to whip her skateguards off, as Lee did the same. Without so much as glancing at her, he grabbed her hand and they stepped onto the rink, skating to center ice and bowing to the stands, where the noise from the crowd just got louder. The arena’s loudspeaker boomed their introduction, covering Kara’s words, as she hissed quietly, gritting her teeth in a big fake smile.    
  
“You think I said all that to get a stupid routine out of you? No! We’re not doing it, Lee. It’s out of the program.”   
  
“It’s in,” he whispered back, his own grin real and warm, as they turned to face the other side.   
Kara’s head pounded. She didn’t understand this. She’d poured her heart out, and he’d said nothing, but suddenly he was all fired up to do the move that he’d been bitching about for weeks?   
  
They turned to face each other, getting into position to begin their routine. Kara knew she should just let it lie now. They had to focus, their last shot. But she couldn’t, she needed to know what the hell he was thinking. “Why?”    
  
Lee slid one hand to the small of her back, raising the other to cup her nape, which was their standard starting position, but then he pulled her closer, tilted his head down to hers, let his thumb trace down her throat in a lazy caress and Kara’s pulse skipped under his hand. Lee smiled, blindingly wide, and whispered, “Because you let me fall, too, Kara, and I’m not quitting on you.” He cocked an eyebrow, the soft smile changing to a devilish smirk. “ _And_  I’m in the mood to kick a little ass.”   
  
Kara’s heart lurched at his words, swelling as the music did, flooding the arena with their song. She stared into Lee’s eyes, and a slow smile formed on her face, growing until it rivaled his. Then, in total synchronicity, they began moving. In all her years of skating, Kara had never felt more in the zone. She’d never felt more connected to another person in her entire life. They performed move after move, clean, sharp, crisp movements perfectly timed. They circled wide, blades stroking hard, and came together at center ice again. Lee’s eyes asked her if she was ready and Kara nodded imperceptibly, gripping his hands and letting him pull her into the spin that was the foundation for the big move, the Roslin Twist.   
  
She couldn’t explain why or what had changed, but Kara could feel it immediately. It was different this time, like something essential had snicked into place. She spun, faster and faster as Lee rotated, anchored only by his hands on her body. And then suddenly, he released her and Kara was flying. She soared, weightless and free, twisting through the air. Then gravity plucked at her and she was falling for an endless, indelible moment until she landed…safe in Lee’s outstretched arms. The crowd thundered as he caught her, spinning with Kara and pulling her in close. They did it! They pulled it off!    
  
Lee skated to a stop, lowered Kara to the ice again as the program ended, her body sliding against his as the music started to fade. The ISU regulations required that pairs skaters hold their end position till the accompaniment finished. But Lee didn’t wait. No sooner had Kara’s blades touched down than he was sweeping her up again, arms tight around her, and his mouth crashed down on hers.    
  
The roar of the crowd, the drone of the announcers, the fading strains of their music, all of it fell away as Kara’s existence narrowed, sharpened to the single point of sensation of Lee’s lips on hers. He kissed her with a hunger, an unchecked desperation that made liquid fire rush through her body. Kara clung to his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscle there, as Lee’s mouth slanted over hers, again and again. She wasn’t sure if the kiss lasted a moment or an eternity, but by the time his lips softened against hers and Lee finally pulled back, she was thoroughly breathless and completely witless.   
  
Overwhelmed suddenly by the feelings of joy and victory and the adrenaline still coursing through her, Kara started laughing. “That was a deduction, you know,” she breathed into Lee’s ear.    
  
His answer was a broad grin, as he tightened his arms around her again and picked her up, his mouth fusing to hers again in a quick, hard press. “Ask me if I give a damn,” Lee murmured against her lips when he finally set her down again.    
  
The irrepressible grin on Kara’s face twisted into a smirk. “Lee Adama,” she clicked her tongue, “breaking all the rules.”    
  
He raised a hand to cup her face, his eyes intent and serious and as he smiled softly at her. “Sometimes it’s worth it.”    
  
Warmth flooded her at the look on his face, and Lee stroked a thumb down her cheek, then leaned in and whispered. “But if we don’t get moving, I think they might order the Zamboni guy to take us down.”    
  
Kara laughed and they finally broke apart to bow to the still-applauding crowd and skate off the ice, accepting congratulations and hugs, and some especially knowing looks from their families. Kara rolled her eyes as she slipped her skateguards on, already anticipating a string of smirking  _I told you so_ ’s from Sharon. But surprisingly, it was Bill, who seemed to take the greatest glee in their very public display of affection. His low baritone rumbled in Kara’s ear as he hugged her. “Glad to see you took that advice.”    
  
Kara pointedly looked to where Laura was standing, twisting the new ring on her third finger of her left hand, while she talked animatedly to Lee. “Right back at ya, boss.”    
  
The Old Man winked, and reach up to tuck a piece of flyaway hair behind Kara’s ear. “Guess even an old dog like me can learn some new tricks.”   
  
She grinned wide, as Lee came back and grabbed her hand, and they started moving towards the kiss-and-cry area, Laura forging ahead of them. “I’m sure Coach will be real glad to hear that,” she said, over her shoulder towards Bill, who just shook his head and chuckled.    
  
***   
  
As she waited next to Lee on the small couch, Kara’s nerves jangled. The scoreboard was still empty. Coach was standing at the boards arguing quietly but ferociously with an ISU official over the legality of the Roslin Twist. It would have been physically impossible for them to skate any better. They would medal, she had no doubt about that--assuming they didn’t get disqualified that is. And if, by some miracle, the judges scored them high enough artistically to outweigh any possible demerits for bending the rules, they would capture the gold. The gold that had eluded them both, previously. The gold that Lee had been striving his whole life to win.   
  
And then what would happen? He’d been ready to quit this morning, ready to give up on skating altogether, and that was without reaching his goal. Now, if he had, would he still want to skate? Doubt raced through Kara. She’d had to push him into doing this, just like his father always pushed him. What if, after all the euphoria over their success died down, Lee decided he didn’t want this at all anymore? What if—her brain raced with fear—he didn’t want  _her_  anymore?   
  
“Lee,” she squeezed his hand and he turned to her. Kara swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”   
  
His head tilted, as he stared in confusion, and Kara forced herself to say it. “Are you sure I’m what you want?” She paused, because it wasn’t just about them. It was about all of this, their life, their future, all inextricably woven together. It had to be all or nothing. “That this,” she waved her free hand, “—us, skating,  _everything_ —it’s what you want?”    
  
His eyes widened and Lee said, urgently, “ _Yeah_ , you’re what I want.” The knot in Kara’s chest loosened slightly. “And, this,  _this_  is what I want. Somewhere along the way I forgot that somehow. But the way I felt out on the ice today, outside in the rink and just now, skating with you... I’m sure of it, Kara,” he paused, looking surprised by his own words, “I don't think I really knew it until I said it out loud just now.”   
  
Relief rushed through Kara, hope hesitantly unfurling again in her chest. “Because of your dad? The pressure?”   
  
“Yeah. Somewhere along the way, skating... it became his, not mine, you know? He was so focused on it that I just, I came to hate it.” He reached over and laced his other hand through Kara’s. “But then you came along and made me remember how much I love it.” Lee rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles, the expression on his face, sheepish, “I think I was afraid to admit that for the longest time. How much I needed it.” He shook his head, his eyes glinting under the bright lights of the arena. “And how much I needed  _you_ .”    
  
Kara nodded, as her own eyes started to water, and she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat, so she just leaned forward and rested her forehead against Lee’s.   
  
“I love you, Kara Thrace.”    
  
“I love you, too.” She breathed, feeling impossibly, unbelievably happy. Then she shifted back, beaming a cocky grin at Lee. “Just remember who said it first.”    
  
Lee laughed and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her again, and pressing his lips to hers.   
  
As they kissed, lost in their own little world, the loudspeaker finally crackled to life, the announcer reading off the scores for technical merit, then artistic merit, each number higher than the last, until the stands erupted in a cacophonous thunder of applause.    
  
_“…and there you have it, ladies and gentlemen,”_  the announcer cried excitedly, his words heralded by all in the cavernous sporting arena save for the two skaters locked together in an unyielding embrace,  _“The United States have themselves brand-new Olympic Pair Figure Skating champions! KARA THRACE AND LEE ADAMA WIN THE GOLD!”_   
  
\--The End--


End file.
